Circle Nine
by Anwa
Summary: Some say that eyes are windows into the soul. But some souls are boarded up, while others cease to exist entirely. Welcome to the ninth circle.
1. Beautiful

_This idea popped into my head last summer, and It's been sitting on my computer ever since. Granted I've been working on it instead of my other posted fics, and been feeling incredibly guitly about it, so I figured I should just post it and get it over with. _

_**This is a slightly more AU universe**, not as AU as some of my other fics, but still different. So, you've been warned, alright?_

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_**Circle Nine  
**_"_I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real"  
__(Nine Inch Nails, "Hurt")_

She didn't dare turn on the light. She couldn't bare to look at herself one more time. As long as she kept the light off, she wouldn't see, and as long as she couldn't see, she could pretend a little longer.

She took another swig of her beer, feeling it as it slithered down her dry throat and into the pit of her stomach. Slowly she felt her eyes wander down at her feet, down into a small, almost empty bottle. And she let herself become entranced once again by its intoxicating promise: beauty.

With a shaky hand, she picked up the bottle, dumping out the last of its contents haphazardly on to the floor in front of her. She picked two of the small pills up, her hand shaking uncontrollably now, and brought them up to her lips. She slid both pills into her wet lips, then brought back up her beer, swallowing down the pair of so-called miracle pills.

If only miracles weren't the makings of fairytales. Lies really. All lies.

Then she picked up another pair, she had eaten so much that day. She had to get rid of all of it. She had been so good, she was losing weight. But she still was so fat. Fat. Fat. _Fat!_

She took another swig of the beer and pills. Then, feeling somewhat content, let her head fall back, leaning it against the pink wall behind her. She looked over to where she had charted her progress secretly, just behind her headboard, where only people who were looking for something could see. Her eyes wandered until they managed to fall upon the last entry: 120. She still wasn't there yet. She still wasn't beautiful.

Just a little longer. Then she'd be beautiful. Then she would turn on the light.

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_Please Review._


	2. Enter the Players

_Second chapter time. This one is extremely long for me, but there really was no good place to cut it. Obiviously, the chapters won't all be as short as the first one, but you shouldn't exepect it to be as long as this. Generally, I have them about five to seven pages in total. Alright, I'm done now._

_**Thanks to Mondler4ever8, dare.you.to.move., anhonestmoose, Lindsey, CM4ever, and rachgreengeller for the reviews.**_

_Chapter three is written, just being edited right now, so you should expect the same amount of time in between again. After that, God knows when I'll update again. _

_Okay, I'm really done now, I promise._

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Chandler Bing drove with only the swishing sound of the wiper blades as they washed away the falling snow to listen too. His roommate, Ross Geller, had fallen asleep quite sometime ago, and now had a dreamy smile on his face. The kind of smile he would get when he would dream about the girl left behind. Not that this girl knew she was being left anywhere, but to him, she was the girl left behind.

He groaned inwardly at the thought of spending another holiday with another person's family. They would always look at him with puppy dog eyes, in a sad attempt to give him pity. And instead of heartfelt gifts he'd receive impersonal cards from each of his parents with a check inside, no doubt everyone they knew got the card, his just had a check inside as to buy his forgiveness. Again.

He had wanted to stay at the dorms this year, at least that way it would save him a trip and some gas, but Ross had connived him that was no way to spend the holidays. That holidays were supposed to be spent with friends. And as much as Chandler wanted to believe that Ross's words were noble and true, the reality of it was that Ross needed a ride home and Chandler had a car. Not that Ross would ever admit that was the real reason.

Ross's eyes fluttered open and closed, as he began to come to. He sat up and yawned loudly, taking in his surroundings.

"Damn, man, how long have I been out?"

"About an hour, we're almost there."

"Really? That long? Why didn't you wake me up, man, I would have kept you company!"

"Isn't that the point of this trip? Keeping me sane?"

"Hilarious man, but really, you should have woke me up, I wouldn't have been mad."

Chandler snorted, "Whatever, man, you just keep thinking that."

Ross gave him a sideways glare, but let the comment slide. "Dude, so you remember our ground rules about this trip, right?"

"Yeah, of course, why would I forget something so important?"

Ross rolled his eyes, and sighed, "Dude, this is important, I'm serious! Now tell, me, what are the rules?"

"Don't run away to Mexico?"

Ross gave him another sideways glare, "Okay, dude, no talking about certain evening activities that happen on a college dorm, kay?"

"You mean, the drinking, the smoking, the sex, and let's not forget, the sex?"

"You know what, you're smarter then you look."

"Ah, so the pupil begins to show progress."

Ross chuckled, "Okay, the next rule, be nice. Try to cut down on the sarcasm a little, huh?"

"But, Ross, humor is my defense mechanism, remember? How can I survive without my defense mechanism? How, Ross, how?"

"Apparently that is going to be a stretch for you."

"What's next on the list?"

"Be nice."

"You already said that!"

"It needed to be said again, Mr. Defense Mechanism," Ross deadpanned. "Now, number four, no smoking."

"Wait, wait, wait, no smoking! No sarcasm! You have got to be shitting me!"

"And watch your language!"

"Ross, what if I promise to smoke outside and no sarcasm, will that be okay? I promise, no smoking in the house. Cross my heart!"

Ross sighed, "Alright man, but really, you should stop. Do you know what's in those death sticks?"

"Does it really matter anymore?" He said softly, "I mean, it's not like I'm gonna save myself from stopping now."

"Dude," Ross looked over at him sympathetically, "I know it's hard, but you gotta stop. You're just killing yourself faster."

"And the downside to that would be?" He blurted out, then slapped himself mentally. Hopefully Ross wouldn't catch on, this was no time for him to come out of the dark. Chandler had no place to run. He was good at running, genetic really. His parents had been masters at the craft.

Ross looked at him strangely, "What?"

"I'm kidding," Chandler forced another smirk on his face. He had gotten good at the recovery from those types of comments. He really had to start thinking through his words, sooner or later somebody was gonna catch on. Someone was going to see how far the defense goes.

"Dude, that's not funny."

"Thought we could lighten the mood."

"Whatever, just don't creep me out like that. So you will only smoke outside, and will be nice, and will never ever talk about certain actives that occur in a college dorm. As far as my parents should be concerned, it's like a combination monastery and nunnery all in one. Can you live with that?"

"No promises on the no sarcasm thing, but what the hell, I'll try and censor myself. And as long as I continued to smoke the so-called death sticks no words shall be mentioned about your escapades these past few months, you stud muffin, you."

"Shut up," Ross laughed, not really meaning it. It was nice not being called a geek or a loser for once, even if it was meant as a joke.

Chandler chuckled a little at his friend's antics, and returned his attention back to the road in front of him. "Hey dude, am I allowed to get wasted?"

"As long as my parents don't find out, I'll all for it."

"Good, cause I kinda brought along a couple of the essentials. You know, the vodka, the tequila, the beer, the Jell-O."

"The Jell-O?"

"Yes, the Jell-O. Bringing back an old pastime, my friend, drinking Jell-O shots. Pure vodka mixed with fruity goodness. It's the best way to get trashed."

"Dude, why didn't you share this information before?"

"You seemed kinda busy," Chandler mused, "You know, getting laid and all. That Carol's a wild child, you know that right? You better hold on to her."

"Something tells me you hold your alcohol better then you let on."

Chandler smiled faintly, and held back a chuckle. "I better, I mean, I've been drinking since like the age of nine."

"Nine?" Ross asked, taken aback a bit.

"Yeah, right when my parents got a divorce. I guess that's when I starting smoking too." He looked back over at his friend who sat in absolute shock, "Oh come on, it's not that odd."

"What do you mean? How many nine-year-olds do you know that smoke and drink? Cause that's one scary-ass family you got going there."

"No shit, dude, I already knew my family was one of a kind, and Drew Berrymore was the same."

"Dude, she was a child star."

"I have a gay father and a slut mom. You really think she's more screwed up then me?"

"Well," Ross looked straight ahead, unable to come up with anything to say back at him. "Well, it's still not good! I mean, come on, didn't your parents notice?"

"Ross, there is a reason I'm sitting in my car driving you home on Christmas break."

"Dude, that's awful! No wonder you hate your parents so much! I thought it was just the usual divorced kids stuff, but man, your childhood must have sucked."

"Thanks man, can't hear that enough."

"Oh, turn on this street," he pointed ahead to a well lit street just off to the right. "We're at the end of the street, on the right side, you'll probably see my dad sitting outside drinking some eggnog."

Chandler did as he was told, slowing down his speed a little to give off a better impression. It was the least he could do anyways, apparently these people were big on first impressions. "So, dude, do you spend all major holidays with your family?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I donno, it sounds nice, I guess."

"You know you're always welcome at my house right?"

"Well I have to decide if I like it or not first," he joked.

Ross shook his head a little, "Besides, I need someone to get drunk with. My sister's not exactly the drinking type."

"How old is she?"

"She'll be a freshman this fall at NYU."

"So she's a senior, eh?" He though out loud, "And she doesn't drink?"

"Nah, she's more the 'I don't get in trouble' type, I think. Her and my mom always have these big fights, but they're more well Monica as a person then anything else."

Chandler nodded, "So I take it no showing your sister the goods?"

"Yea, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell my sister that we're getting wasted, cause she will go out of her way to get me in trouble with my parents. I really don't get it, she says that they favor me or something. Eh, I really don't listen."

"Why am I suddenly glad I don't have a sibling."

"It's not all bad, I guess,"

"Then tell me one good thing about having a sister."

"She can cook." He stated simply, "She can cook really, really, really good."

"Is she gonna be a chef or something?"

"I donno. I think she just likes to cook as a hobby or something. I'm not quite sure."

"Well you sure do pay attention to your family."

"Oh! This is us!" He pointed to a house just as Chandler passed it.

"Gee, thanks for the warning, man," he brought the car to a stop, then pulled back in reverse until they sat just a couple of feet in front of his house, then pulled into the driveway.

"Well," Ross said, "I was too busy answering your questions!"

Chandler just shook his head and turned the car off, "So are you sure your parents won't mind me crashing here for the holidays?"

"Nah, they love having company over. My sister will probably have her friend Rachel over too, she always comes over for holidays."

"As in Rachel, the girl you are still crushing on while having another girlfriend?"

"I am so not crushing on her, okay? She's my little sister's best friend, I'm supposed to be nice, okay?" Ross said sternly, as he collected his bags from around him and opened up the door.

"Whatever man," Chandler chuckled as he grabbed his bag from the backseat.

"No, I'm serious! I love Carol, man!"

Chandler jerked his head back, "Dude."

"What?"

"You love her?" He asked in almost disbelief.

"Yeah, what's so weird about that?"

"I donno," he lied. Love wasn't real. Love was what was convenient. What your mind led you to think was the truth. In other words, a figment of your imagination. Because if love was real, then why did people always end up hurting each other in the end?

Ross opened up the front door, plastering on his best 'I'm home' smile for his family. "Hey guys!" He yelled out as he walked through the front door.

"Ross!" Judy Geller ran over and attacked her son with a giant hug, "Oh! I've missed you so much! You don't come home enough!"

Once he had realized himself from his mother's death grip, he made a motion towards Chandler. "Hey guys, I'd like you to meet my roommate, Chandler Bing."

"Hi," Chandler held up his hand awkwardly, "Hope you don't mind me crashing here."

"Are you going to be spending Christmas with us, or are you just passing through?" Jack Geller asked, as he looked over Chandler from head to toe.

"I was planning on spending Christmas at the dorms, but Ross convinced me to come to here," he paused looking for words, "So, erm- here I am."

"Well it's lovely to have you with us, Chandler!" Judy smiled, then added, "Chandler, my, what an unusual name."

"Well my parents are quite the odd couple, you might say."

"Hey, mom, where's Monica?" Ross looked around the living room for his usually perky younger sister. "Is she hanging out with her friends tonight or something?"

"No, she's up in her room," Jack stated, "Monica!" He called up the small flight of stairs, "Monica! Are you awake?"

Chandler bit his lip, the comments just kept coming at him. 'Well, if she wasn't, she is now, Mr. Geller,' he thought to himself. At the least he could just say them in his head, otherwise he might actually go insane.

"Yeah, Dad?" Monica popped her head out of her room, opening the door just so that people could see her head. Her dark, almost black, hair hung down loosely, just scraping the bottom of her shoulder blades. Her dark orbs looked almost lifeless, they lacked soul, but that was a look Chandler had grown accustom to over the years. Even so, she looked beautiful to him.

"Come down and say hi to Ross and his roommate, Chandelier!"

"Um, it's Chandler."

"Sorry, Chandler!" Jack fixed his mistake.

Monica bit her lip a little, "Okay," she said softly, sliding out from behind the door as casually as possible. She was dressed in loose fitting cut up jeans and an Aerosmith concert t-shirt. She obviously hadn't planned on going anywhere tonight.

Seeing her made Chandler want to drool. It took everything he had not to let his mouth hang open. "Hi, I'm Chandler," was all he could make out as he held his hand up awkwardly again.

"Well I would assume, seeing as how you are the only person in the room I do not know," Monica mused, forcing a smile on her face.

"Oh my God, Mon! You look incredible!" Ross exclaimed, "When did this happen?"

"So what, I lost a few pounds?"

"A few! More like an entire person!"

"Thanks Ross, comments like that really helps the self-esteem level. They've done studies."

"Monica!" Judy scolded her, "Ross was giving you a compliment! The least you can do is say thank-you! Honestly! You'd think she was raised in a barn the way she acts some days."

Monica mumbled something incoherent, then followed by, "Thanks Ross. Glad to have you back."

Chandler smirked a little, but held back his chuckle. Her words reeked of such sarcasm that it challenged that of his own twists of words and phrases. So subtly placed that only those that lacked souls could understand.

"So, why don't we all go sit in the living room and you can tell us about yourself, Chandler!" Jack decided, "And I want to hear all about this girl you've been seeing Ross! When do we get to meet her?"

"Uh, she's with her family this Christmas, but she might stop by on New Years," Ross tired to act as cool and indifferent as possible, but his excitement showed through.

They followed Jack and Judy into the living room, all taking seats around a small conversation area in the very center of the room. Jack and Judy sat on the small love seat, watching Chandler and Ross with great interest. Chandler almost felt like gagging at the sudden attention.

Monica took a seat in the small corner, her eyes darting back up to her closed door every minute or so. She tired to put on her best smile, but her displeasure, although barely visible, could be seen. She was good, he'd give her that, but she wasn't perfect.

"Well that will be nice," Judy beamed, "She sounds like such a nice girl!"

"She's on the golf and lacrosse team!" Ross told everyone, beaming with pride.

"That's wonderful Ross," Judy smiled, "So, Chandler, tell us about yourself? You're Ross's roommate right, where are you from?"

"I'm from New York, and there really isn't much too tell." Chandler said dryly, hoping to switch the spotlight back onto Ross who didn't seem to mind the attention one little bit.

"Oh, come now! There must be something! What are you studying? Are you involved in any sports?" Jack asked, encouraging him on with questions.

"No, not involved in," he paused in thought for a moment, "Anything," he said flatly, "And I'm majoring in math. No idea what I'm gonna go with it. But I have a major which is a step up from last week."

"Oh? You're interested in mathematics? I never would have guessed," Judy looked at him intently, letting her words just float off into space.

"So, why are you spending the holidays with us, Chandler? Is your family unable to celebrate this year for some reason?" Jack asked bluntly, not thinking of the consequences of his question.

"Jack!" Judy elbowed him.

"What? I just wanted to know."

"Erm-my family's really not the holiday type, I guess." Chandler almost laughed at his description. It was putting it lightly to say the least.

"Oh, that's too bad!" Judy cooed, her eyes getting wide with pity, "Well, I guess that means we'll have to have an extra special Christmas this year! I hope you like turkey and brought your stomach with you!"

"Turkey?" Chandler asked, his eyes getting a little wide.

"Yea, that's what we always eat," Ross filled in for him, bringing himself back into the limelight for a second anyways. "Dude, I thought I told you that."

"Umm, I'm sorry," his voice cracked, "But would you excuse me for a moment?" He asked, his breaths quickening and his eyes darting back at the door.

"Go ahead man," Ross gave him a stern look-over and added, "You know, you don't look so good," he commented.

Chandler nodded and made a dash for the door. That is if you consider walking quickly until you were out of their range of sight and then running a mad dash. He ran outside tumbling out onto the snow-covered front lawn. He felt himself trip over his feet and before he could react, his body crashed face down onto the ground below him in one felt swoop.

"I hate everything about that bird," he mumbled to himself remembering back to the last Thanksgiving meal he ever ate. The last family dinner he ever had.

He pushed himself out of the snow, so that he just sat there holding his legs to his chest and brushed himself off a little. "Everything about that day," he continued, his fingers fumbling down his coat looking for his cigarettes and lighter.

Once he felt the worn box beneath his fingers, he grasped onto them and pulled out the box. He dropped out one of his saviors, and raised it to his lips. Then he returned his hand to search for his lighter, once he felt the cold metal brush his fingertips, he wrapped his hand around it and pulled it out with a shaky hand. He raised the lighter, and attempted to light it before it finally caught fire, and then brought the small flame to his cigarette, just lighting the butt on fire.

"That man," he mumbled, as he took in a slow drag.

"You're going to catch a cold like that!" He heard a voice from behind him, but he didn't bother to turn around. He really didn't care to hear the words.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, "Just A-okay."

He felt a fail hand on his shoulder, "Well the least you could do is offer me a light."

He turned his head to see Ross's little sister, Monica, smiling back at him, amused. "Eh?" He finally made out, not sure of what to make of it.

"I ran out a couple of days ago, and I've been going crazy ever since. Haven't gotten a chance to go buy a new pack yet." She sighed, as she took a seat besides him in the snow.

"Do your parents know you're a smoker?" Chandler eyes, raising his eyebrows a bit.

"Do your parents know you're a smoker?" Monica shot back, equal amusement in her tone.

"Fair enough," Chandler smiled as he pulled out his nearly empty carton. "Here, I trust you can figure the rest out," he handed her the carton and his lighter.

"Quite the gentleman," she mused as she lit up her cigarette.

"Learned from the best."

She took a slow drag, then exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Home life sucked didn't it? That's why you're here with us, right?" Monica said as more of a statement then a question, her eyes just stared off into space, never once did she look at him. "Well let me tell you, it's not that much better here."

Chandler watched her carefully, "What makes you think you know me after fifteen minutes of meeting me?"

"You're an easy read, Chandler." Monica took another drag, "You're sarcastic, you're spiteful, probably the result of a broken marriage or wedlock gone bad."

"So what, you know that I'm sarcastic. Anyone could have told you that."

She turned and looked at him for a brief moment, then returned her attention to the street out in front of them. "If I had to put money on it, I'd say you're a child of a bad divorce."

Chandler gritted his teeth, "Why'd you come out here, anyways? It's not like anybody asked you too. I was perfectly content to sit out here by myself."

"Ooh, somebody's a bit touchy."

"Oh come on! I'm so not touchy!"

She turned to face him, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. "Oh, yes, I didn't mean that at all. How did those horrible, horrible words find they're way out of my poor, poor mouth."

Chandler rolled his eyes, "You know what, whatever," he sighed, pushing himself out of the snow. "I don't have to put up with this." He grabbed the cigarette out of her lips, and grasped it in his hand.

"Hey!" She yelled, whirling around to glare at him. "Why'd you do that for?"

"Because I was being nice by giving you this, and all you've done is tell lies about me!" He blurted out in anger, "I'm not that guy you described! I'm different!"

"And how so?"

"Because," Chandler gritted his teeth, "And you know what, you shouldn't even be smoking this! I could tell your parents right now and you'd be in a heap of trouble!"

Monica arched an eyebrow, "So? Why don't you?"

Chandler rolled his eyes, "Whatever, it's frankly not worth it to me. I'm just gonna go get piss drunk and then maybe drive into a ditch along the road." He mumbled as he turned and walked towards his car.

"Wait!" Monica yelled after him, pushing herself out of the snow. "Take me with you."

"Hmm," he pretended to consider the option, "No. I'm just gonna go get wasted with my other messed up children of bad divorces friends. It's a club you know? Something tells me you're not a member." He glared at her, and then turned and climbed into his car without another word.

Monica stood and watched him as he left, her hands balled up into fists. She was nearly out of beer, that had been her plan for the night, getting drunk so that she could forget. But she couldn't possibly get drunk off of three beers. She held her alcohol too well for that, it was mere child's play to her.

"Bastard," she mumbled as she turned and walked back into the house. Once inside, she closed the door quietly, hoping that she wouldn't attract the attention of everyone else in the living room. There were really no words to describe their conversation that wouldn't get either one or both of them, most likely both knowing her family, in trouble.

"Monica!"

There would be no such luck. She swore inwardly, but outwardly she put on her best smile, "Yea, mom?" She called back, not wanting to go into the living room.

"Come in here! I don't want to shout!"

She swore again. Things just weren't going her way tonight. Not to suggest that they ever did, it was just some nights that things went more awry then usual. "Coming, mom." She made her way as slowly as possible into the living room, she swore she even heard her feet dragging against the carpet in protest. "Yes?" She asked innocently as she looked around at all of their faces.

"Where's Chandler?" Ross asked, "Is he still outside?"

"He needed some space," Monica answered hoping her answer would be enough to satisfy their thirst for good gossip. Bloodhounds are what they really were.

"Why? He seemed fine on the way over. Did you say something to upset him?" Ross continued asking her questions, making her chances of getting caught all the more better. Sooner or later someone would smell the alcohol on her breath or even the cigarette on her tongue.

"Monica! I've told you a hundred times!" Her mother scolded her without even waiting for a rebuttal.

She rolled her eyes, "Do you realize that he left the room because he was upset. And isn't that the reason you wanted me to go outside in the first place!"

"You don't have to shout Monica, jeez. We're all in the same room," Jack scolded her.

"But still, why did he decide to drive off? Did he tell you where he was going? If he was so upset, then why the hell did you let him drive!" Judy continued to rattle off things at Monica, ignoring completely her daughter's clenched fists.

"I frankly didn't care," she said through her gritted teeth. Then she turned on her heels, making sure to dig them deeply into the carpet in a sad attempt to make a mark, and walked, or rather stomped, back up into her room.

She ran to her bed, throwing her body against it as she reached out of her small stash behind it. Her heart was racing wildly as she pulled out the small shoebox from it's hiding spot. She brought it up to her, then she lifted the worn top off and threw it across the room. There she found her prize.

It was a collection of small bottles of vodka, wrapped lovingly in old handkerchiefs. She had been saving these for so long, just for a time like this, or perhaps just another Friday night. Whatever the case, she was glad she had saved them so patiently over the years.

She unwrapped the first bottle, opened it, and downed it in one gulp. Then she made her way over to the next awaiting bottle, and did the same. And slowly, she began to forget.

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_Please Review._


	3. My Best Friend

_Third chapter. So far I know this has been extremly focused on Mon and Chan individually but other chacters will come into play along with Mon and Chan together. Don't ask me if any of the other six are gonna be involved, because I really don't know yet. We'll just have to wait and see._

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All the lights were off in the house when he pulled back in the driveway. They should be, it was nearly two-thirty in the morning, but that had never stopped him before. The night was his time, he much preferred it to the daylight. The rays had always blinded his eyes, he would see what others had wanted him to see, but at night their true colors would show.

His parents never knew he was an insomniac.

That he heard all of their late night arguments. They had always assumed he was sound asleep in his bed, keeping his ears just a little more virginal then what they were. He hadn't slept much since that Thanksgiving. What little sleep came was always uneasy.

The doctors gave him some pills a couple of years ago that would make him sleep, but he rarely used them. At least until he started college. Then, he wanted to be normal. Figured it was okay to come out into the light for awhile.

But he was finding out he was wrong about a lot of things recently.

He turned off his car, his blood-alcohol level barely on the charts. The night had been a relative bust, apparently nobody wanted to sell beer to minors. Something about the law or whatever. He didn't care for their reason.

He sighed heavily, "Great first impression," he mumbled to himself as he walked up the snow-covered walkway. He made his way up the front steps, praying to God that they had somehow left a way for him to get into the house. He really had to start thinking things through.

He jiggled the door handle a little. He would have no such luck. It was too early in the morning to knock, but just the right time for him to look like he was breaking and entering. His night was just turning out to be grand.

He sighed as he looked around the perimeter of the house, hoping to find some kind of entrance or a poorly hid spare key. He'd settle for either at this point.

From behind him, he heard the door swing open, and he felt himself smiling.

He whirled around, "Dude! Ross! Thanks," but he didn't finish his sentence. Because it wasn't Ross that had opened the door.

"Fancy meeting you here," Monica chuckled out, obviously well on her way on the charts, most likely past the legal amount. Then again, anything would be past the legal amount of her, considering her age and all.

"I thought you didn't have any alcohol."

"Never said that, you just assumed."

Chandler looked at her carefully, "Want to let me in?" He asked hopefully, noticing for the first time how cold it was standing out on the open porch.

"Considering," she mumbled, "After all you did take away my smoke."

Chandler sighed, "Look, I'll make a deal with you, alright?"

"Depends on the deal."

"Okay, how 'bout I share all of my smokes, and you let me in and give me some of your drinks. Does that sound fair?"

Monica thought on that for a moment, "All of your smokes?"

"Mi casa es su casa, or whatever" Chandler mumbled hopefully, remembering back to his years of Spanish in high school. Not that he really remembered much of high school, even when he was in it.

She looked at him questioningly, titling her head to the side in thought. Leaving him outside did sound pretty appealing.

"Look, I'll even buy some new cartons. That way we'll never run out."

Monica bobbed her head up and down in an awkward sort of nod. "Then it's a truce" She held out her right hand in front of her, and Chandler shook it firmly,

"Truce," he forced a smile.

Monica nodded uneasily, "Still want to get trashed?"

"It seems your well on your way, but I'll be glad to catch up as quickly as possible. But I must warn you, I hold my alcohol better then what I let on, apparently."

"Follow me," she smiled, as she opened the door completely allowing some of it's heat to caress his cold skin. He smiled thankfully, and sneaked up the stairs behind her hunched figure. Even the smallest sound could cost them the evening.

She pulled open her bedroom door, slowly enough as to not make the soft creaking noises, but not at an ungodly slow pace.

"I see you've had practice," he whispered approvingly to her.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

They walked into her dark room, her bottles were displayed lovingly on her bed, a pile for used and a pile just waiting to be drunk.

Chandler had to chuckle to himself, "You know, your good at this. Ross had no clue. And judging from this stash, you've been saving for awhile."

She shrugged, "Maybe five or six years now. Hell, maybe even more. I really can't remember any more." She sat down on her bed, besides the unused bottles, making sure to leave room enough for him to sit down besides her. "You can sit here you know, I don't bite."

"Some girls don't like the idea of strange men sitting on their beds next to them."

"Well I'm not some girl, then, am I?"

Chandler smiled faintly, and walked over, taking up the open space besides her. "Toss me a bottle, would you?"

"Let the games begin," she mused as she picked up two bottles, handing one over to Chandler and keeping one for herself.

"How come you're not more drunk?" Chandler asked, trying to at least make conversation with his temporary ally.

Monica threw her head back as she drank in the last of the sour liquid. Her face puckered for a moment, then she let out a soft 'ah' of approval. "Most of those were empty, I've had these for a awhile."

He nodded and tipped his head back, chugging down its bitter taste. Once he felt the last drop fall, he dropped the bottle down from his slightly puckered face, and wiped his lips clean. "You know, I should have figured you were more like me when Ross told me about you."

"What did he say? That I'm not into getting into trouble?" She mused, pulling out two of her bottles of beer. "Here, we need to save these. They aren't gonna last long."

He nodded and took the beer, "I have some more up in my bag, I'll bring 'em tomorrow." He opened up the bottle of beer without difficulty, he barely even had to look at it to know where the cap was. He had trained himself. "Anyways, you're right, Ross kept telling me not to show you the goods, cause you're some goody-two-shoes or something."

Monica rolled her eyes, taking a small sip of her beer. "God, Ross is clueless isn't he?"

Chandler nodded in agreement, "Like a log that one," he mused, becoming more and more conformable. And why shouldn't he? The darkness was his domain, it always had been and always would be. He pulled himself completely onto the bed, crossing his legs and leaning forwards just ever so slightly.

In turn, Monica had pulled herself all the way back, so that she leaned against the headboard of her bed, lazily sipping her beer every so often. "So why did you come here, Chandler?"

He shrugged, "Don't you already know the answer," he said dryly, almost bitterly. It was an attack well merited, but it was a low attack, even he knew that.

"I read people, I don't however, read people's minds like some sort of physic."

"Fair enough," Chandler mumbled, "Ross asked me if I would come. I think he just wanted a ride, but it was nice, y'know, having somebody want you around for the holidays for once."

Monica nodded slowly, "He does think of you as his best friend, you know that, right?"

"Why?"

"Chandler, you are the first person to ever talk to him, and not automatically label him a geek like so many other people have, alright? You're the first person who just didn't make friends with him to use him to do their homework or something! You mean a lot to him, just because you at least act like his friend."

Chandler looked at her carefully, "I am his friend," he almost spat in defense. "It isn't just some stupid bullshit act I'm putting on, aright!"

"You see, I told you that you were touchy."

"Well, two can play at this game," he glared at her playfully, "You're pushy, you're bitter and cynical, and, and, and you're,"

"Ha," Monica smiled, "I win."

"And how so? Bitter and cynical?"

"Because, stupid and sarcastic, I said more things. Therefore I win."

"Do you have many friends?"

"Not really."

"Can't imagine why that'd be."

"Is that supposed to hurt me or something?"

Chandler smiled, giving off a small chuckle. "I do believe I have met my match," he mused. "Care for another round of verbal sparring first thing in the morning? You know, after the hangover from hell?"

"Why, is this not a good enough time for you?"

"Nah, I just like having an audience to remember my awesome jokes. And to help claim a victory that I can and will lord over you later."

"And what makes you so sure that you can win against me?"

Chandler smirked, "Because I'm the best." If only she knew the irony of that statement. He was the best, but the best of what? Of making others feel the same pain that he felt? That best at pretending to be something he was not? The best at pretending to be real?

But his gut told him, that she already knew. She probably didn't know the details, no, she couldn't possibly. He hadn't even told Ross. But she knew enough.

"I'll take that as a challenge," she smiled and held up her glass. "May the winner be crowned the world champ."

"To the future champ," he clicked his glass to hers, then they both titled their heads back and they shallowed the bitter liquid. This liquid would be their best friend for many years to come, until, one day, they realized that it was their only friend in the world. And they knew it was coming. But they still drank. Why? Even they didn't know.

* * *

_Please Review._


	4. Losing Touch

_Sorry I've been taking so long on reviews lately, but I just haven't had any time! And exam time is here so obiviously I'm avoiding doing my work and updating! lol. _

_Thanks to **SIGF, Cm4ever, mam, Sea Angerl, anhonestmoose, dare.you.to.move, Lindsey, wind, Mondler4ever, LilMondlerLuver, rachelgreengeller, and Yvonne** for the reviews. You guys are overly kind. _

* * *

Ross sauntered down the front stairs, half awake, half sleeping. His hair was wild, his eyes were barely open, and his pajamas were covered in wrinkles and random stains from over the years. He stretched his arms upwards, letting a giant yawn escape his lips.

He stepped down a couple more steps, until he could see clearly over the edge of the railing. He leaned over the side, so far that the thick wood railing dug into his gut, and scanned the room for any sign of life. Chandler wasn't in his room, from what he could piece together from how his room looked, Chandler had never come into his room the night before.

Instead of seeing Chandler's head popping out from the back of the couch, instead he saw a dark blonde's head. He knew that back of a head well.

"Rachel?" He breathed out, wishing he had the sense to put more on then just his boxers and a tee shirt.

"Oh, hey, Ross," she offered a small smile, "Glad to have ya back," she mumbled out half-heartedly.

"Look, umm, I'm just gonna go back upstairs," he inched back up the stairs slowly, but never took his eyes off of her, or really the back of her head. "Nice seeing ya," he laughed uncomfortably.

She spun back around, and he jumped behind the wall. "Oh yeah, there was some guy lookin' for ya," she raised her eyebrows, "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he squeaked, "You just caught me off guard, heh, heh," he tired to laugh again, "Anyways," he coughed, "What were you saying?"

"Yeah, some guy was looking for you, he and Mon went out to get breakfast a little while ago. He was tallish, with brownish hair, yeah, well they'll probably be back in a minute or two. They were just going up to the diner on forty-fifth."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the place."

"You don't have to hide behind the wall, I won't bite, I promise. Well at least I won't bite you."

"Thanks," he said slowly, "But I think I'm just gonna change into some clothes, y'know, so yeah, be right back."

She turned back around, returning her attention back to her latest copy of Vogue magazine. "Whatever, take your time."

"Umm, stellar." He regretted it the minute he had said it, "Dammit," he muttered to himself and pouted back up the rest of the stairs. "Stellar, yes, Rachel Green, you're stellar," he mocked himself, "Blah, blah, black!"

He continued to grumble into his room, the moment continuously playing in his head like some sort of twisted movie bent on torturing him or something. He shoved open his door, ignoring the loud slam of it hitting against the other wall from his force, and looked around for a clean set of clothes.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head, he had only been there a day and had already managed to soul-handedly trash the place. And he thought only Chandler was capable of such reckless behavior. His parents were probably going to be disappointed by his lack of cleanliness, especially since he had company, but he really didn't care.

"Dirty, dirty," he mumbled to himself, "I really should have sorted these," he had planned on dumping the dirty clothes in a couple of days down the laundry shoot so his mother would clean them instead of wasting his money and time.

He picked up a blue-ish shirt, "Clean or dirty?" He furrowed his brows and thought back on his past couple of days ensembles, unable to come up with anything he brought the shirt up to his nose and took a whiff. If he couldn't tell, then nobody else would be able too.

"Woo, definitely dirty!" He laughed, "It smells just stellar."

"YO! ROSS! BREAKFASTS HERE!" He heard Rachel screech up the stairs at him, followed by the quick clicking of her heels across the wood floors.

"Rachel Green," he whispered to himself, almost feeling guilty about the reappearance of butterflies in his stomach. He was with Carol now. He loved Carol. Not Rachel. Not anymore.

He grabbed the nearest shirt, completely ignoring the smelling procedure and shoved it on, followed by the closest pair of pants. It was his sister, his sister's friend, and his roommate.

"It doesn't matter what I smell like," he encouraged himself as he walked towards the door, rolling his shoulder out of habit, "It's just Monica, Monica's friend, and Chandler. It doesn't matter what I smell like."

He heard the rushed clicks of heel to floor again, followed by Rachel's bellow of, "ROSS! ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?!"

"Yeah, sorry, I got distracted," he half-lied. You could look at it as a distraction, most would just look at it as a fool's approach to unattainable love, aka a silly crush, but still.

He walked down the stairs with a feigned confidence, pretending like nothing had happened. Like he had meant to say the word 'stellar' and like he didn't care if Rachel had seen him in less then appropriate clothing. Like he hadn't spent the past fifteen minutes trying to pick out the best outfit possible to impress his old crush. His old schoolboy crush.

He made it down to the bottom of the stairs, and surveyed the room. Monica sat curled up in the arm chair to the right sipping on a small glass of water, while Chandler sat opposite of her inhaling what appeared to be enough food to feed a third-world country.

He smiled happily, "What's for breakfast?"

"Yeah, we got you some eggs and pancakes," Monica pointed to the swinging kitchen door across the room from her, "It's in the kitchen."

"Alright, thanks," he strolled casually over to the kitchen, kicking the door open with his right foot for effect. He strode into the kitchen, noting Rachel standing next to the sink mumbling something about unconfident waitresses.

"So, they messed up your order, huh, Rach?" He asked, trying to sound as indifferent and cool as possible. It was better to downplay the entire 'stellar' fiasco, but not appear as though he was regretting saying it. He just had to be cool.

She turned with a huff, giving him a harsh glare, "No shit, Ross. Did you think I was doing this for my health?"

He raised his eyebrows, "What? It's not like it's the end of world or something. They just messed up your order."

"How hard is it to fill a couple of orders correctly! Honestly! I'm surrounded by idiots." She turned back around and continued to fish through the remains of her omelet with a fork, picking out the offending pieces of food.

"Yeah," he agreed, bobbing his head up and down. "So, I'm just gonna go," he mumbled, picking up his plate of eggs and pancakes that Monica and Chandler had laid out for him. "You have fun with that."

He darted back out of the kitchen a complete failure. This was Rachel Green he was talking too. The Rachel Green. What was he thinking? He couldn't just go up to her and create a casual conversation about anything, especially when she was pissed off.

He stumbled back into the living room, looking more depressed then he had when he had uttered the complete poison that was 'stellar'.

"Yeah, she's totally into you, man," Chandler smirked, "And I'm sure Carol would totally approve, I mean with a second girlfriend you guys can have threesomes and stuff. How hot would that be?"

Ross rolled his eyes, and plopped down on the nearest chair. "Shut up, you know that's complete bullshit," he mumbled out.

"What the Carol approving thing? Cause I was totally kidding about that."

"No. You know what I'm talking about. I don't like Rachel. Not like that."

"So, that's why you went in all happy, and came out all depressed," Monica teased. "Oh, oh, and why you completely followed her around when she was over her."

"And wrote all those songs about her! Or where those about Carol? Did Carol feel weird since you've been gone?"

Ross grabbed the pillow from behind him and chucked it at Chandler's head. "Dude! Shut up all ready, alright! You know how much I care about Carol!"

"Yeah, yeah, you love her or whatever," Chandler mumbled out. "Whatever that means."

"It means that I really care about her," Ross explained, "Would you like me to explain the concept of caring, or have you grown a brain in the past five seconds?"

Chandler cracked a small smile, "I knew I was having an impact on you," he teased.

Ross rolled his eyes, "Whatever man," he chuckled, "So, what happened to you last night? Monica was kinda vague, and I didn't see ya this morning, so, y'know."

"Yeah, no, it was nothing," he blew off the first part of the question with ease, "But Monica let me in around two or so and I didn't want to wake you up so I crashed on the couch down here."

"Really? I wouldn't have cared? Besides, I sleep like a rock."

"I know," Chandler whispered under his breath to Monica. She lifted her glass up to her mouth to cover the smallest hint of a smile that she could possibly give without someone noticing.

"What?" Ross asked, "What'd ya say?"

"Inside joke."

"You guys have known each other for what, a couple of hours? And you already have inside jokes?"

"Fast friends I guess," Monica covered. "Me and Chandler weren't really tired last night so we talked for a couple of hours. Got to bonding, y'know?"

He nodded, "So, what's with Rachel in the kitchen. She seems pretty PO-ed at the restaurant industry in general."

"Yeah, she's been like that for about fifteen minutes. They must have really screwed it up, or she's just imagining onions," Monica commented. "Who knows?"

The door swung open angrily, whacking hard against the wall besides it. Rachel stormed into the living room, a massacred omelet on the plate she clutched in her hands. She stomped over to the love seat where Mr. and Mrs. Geller had sat the night before, and plumped down in a furry.

"How hard is it to get an order right? It's not fucking rocket science!"

"Well that answers that question," Ross commented under his breath. He turned to face Chandler, "So, what's up for today? You wanna catch a movie or something, man?"

"Actually, I was kinda looking forward to hanging around here," he answered, "I could use a good nap, didn't get much sleep last night."

"Well no shit, you slept on the couch!"

"No," Rachel bit her lip, noticing Monica's warning glances from the corner of her eye.

"No, what, Rach?" Ross asked, shooting questioning glances between her and Chandler. "No, Chandler didn't sleep on the couch?"

"No, I think that these couches are quite conformable. I could spend a night on one of these babies," she chuckled to herself. "Hey, Mon, can I talk to you a sec in the kitchen. I want your advice on something."

Monica sighed, and placed down her almost finished glass of water on the table between the two chairs that she and Chandler sat on. "Sure thing, Rach."

Rachel nodded, standing up out of her chair, Monica following suit. "We'll be just a sec," she smiled sweetly, and hustled into the kitchen, Monica at her heels.

Rachel grabbed Monica's arm, and pulled her behind one of the counters in the kitchen. "Please tell me this is my over active imagination here, but did Chandler spend the night in your room last night?" She whispered in Monica's ear.

"What? It's not a big deal. So what he spent the night in my room?"

"Monica!" She whispered harshly, "I know you were getting drunk, I've seen you're supply, hell! I've used your supply! Don't tell me you did anything stupid."

Monica rolled her eyes, "It's not a big deal. So what? We did it. It's not like it's the end of the world that I'm not a virgin."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this, from you of all people! Whatever happened to saving yourself for somebody you really care for? Unless you have somehow managed to fall madly in love with Chandler in a couple of hours! Don't you dare bullshit me like that!"

Monica leaned in closely to Rachel, staring her down with dark intensity, "It's no big deal. He was just another fuck. And you should be one to talk, Miss I've fucked the majority of Long Island twice."

Rachel threw down Monica's arm, "Take that back," she hissed.

"You know it's true."

"I don't understand you anymore! What the hell is wrong with you!" Rachel shouted, breaking the hushed tone that she had initiated.

"What's wrong with me!" Monica yelled back, in an almost amused tone. "Name one fucking thing that isn't!"

Rachel studied her friend closely, "You've changed," she muttered.

"No shit, Sherlock. I think one of your waitresses could have figured that out."

Rachel shook her head angrily, "I don't need this shit. I have plenty of other friends. You, however, just had me. I was your only fucking friend, but you know what? If you're so fucking fine, then I don't understand why the hell I need to stick around."

"I don't need you," Monica hissed back, "You go off to your perfect little friends in their perfect little world and leave me the fuck alone!"

Rachel grabbed her purse from besides her, "Fine!" She yelled and stormed out of the kitchen in the furry of tears.

She stomped through the living room, grabbed her coat that she had slung across the back of a chair in the dinning room, and without so much as a word of explanation, stormed out of the Geller house.

She lifted her head up towards the sky and screamed, "DAMMIT!" She could feel her tears falling down her cheeks, no doubt her mascara was running by now, but she didn't care. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," she continued to mutter.

And she realized that no matter what she had said, she probably had just lost her only friend in the world.

* * *

_So, I am expanding a little past just the idea of Monica and Chandler's dark side, and have decided to show a little bit of everyone's dark side (still not sure if Phoebe and/or Joey are going to make an appearance yet). But, this is still going to focus mainly on Monica and Chandler's dark side because their's are probably the darkest. _

_Hopefully you have caught on to their problems, Monica's got an eating disorder and alcoholism, Chandler's got depression and alcoholism, while Rachel and Ross have security issues. I'll probably get more into the extent of Rachel's problems within the next chapter. _

_So, again, reviews are always great espically in an AU fic like this. I need to keep in check with the characters, and reviews help me do that. And believe it or not, you guys sometimes give me ideas for the story (imagine that). _

_So, in short, review. Thanks much._


	5. Places

_Updates are comming along...ish. Sorry, my brain has just been swamped for some time now and my lack of sleep habits are starting to catch up with me. Damn teachers...too much homework...and my math teacher seems to think I give a shit about imaginary numbers. Go figure._

_Alright, so..thanks to **Rossandrachforever, Monderlove, SeaAngel, Melanie Geller, Tilulation, Letmeslipaway, luthien, CM4ever, Vosa, Watching the Rain, Lilmondlerfan, and SIGF**for the reviews._

_Oh mynewest friends' fic (Beauty and the Beast), I'dlike to thank **Tilulation, livesinabox, wink2003, dare.you.to.move, mondlerlove, HugeFriendsFan, and Xanyaforever **for theiroverly kind reviewsthat motivated me to update. Give yourselves a pat on the back, won't you? lol. Elementary music class flashback._

_Anyways, here you go. I'll probably talk a little at the bottom too, just to annoy youso. _

* * *

Rachel wrapped her arms around her frail body, trying to sooth away her pain in a pathetic excuse for a hug. She sat down on the Geller's front step, the step that her and Monica used to play on when they were kids. They'd pretend to be princesses waiting for their prince, or pirates off on a world wind adventure, whatever it was, it didn't matter. All that mattered is that she had just lost her best friend.

She watched the memories play out in front of her, like ghosts from the past. Monica chasing after her, and her chasing after Monica, then back again. They used to be so happy. But that was when they were kids, and they had long since lost that innocence.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," she continued to whisper hoarsely to herself, not even bothering to wipe her tears. For once in her life not even worrying about her make-up. It just didn't seem that important anymore.

The door swung open behind her, and closed shut just a moment later just as softly. She knew better then to even bother wishing it was Monica.

"You okay, Rach?" A voice cracked from behind her. Ross crouched down besides her, looking at her with concern in his eyes.

Rachel just shook her head, "No," she choked out.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Rachel shook her head again, "No, Ross! Why do you even care!" She spat angrily at him

He shrugged, "Just thought I could help, y'know? You looked pretty upset."

She shot upwards, hoping to end their conversation before somebody actually saw her talking to Ross Geller. "Well I'm not! I have plenty of other friends! She's been dead weight to me anyways! This is what I fucking wanted!"

"Then why are you crying?" He asked innocently, "If she didn't mean anything to you, then you wouldn't be on my front step crying."

"Dammit, Ross, this is my business, I don't understand why the hell I need to give you of all people the play by play of my life! We barely even speak!"

He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find any words to contradict what she was saying. He closed his mouth, and darted his eyes away from her.

She wiped some of her stay tears from her cheeks, "Look, I've got some place to be," she lied, "So, yeah, I'm out." She walked backwards for a couple of steps, waiting for him to say anything, but he just sat there, watching her as she walked down his front lawn silently.

"Later," she breathed out, turning around and hustling quickly down the rest of the lawn and onto the sidewalk. It was an interesting feeling, to say the least, she was the most popular, the most known, the most beautiful, but she was now completely and utterly alone.

The girls that claimed to be her best friends knew nothing about her, they weren't even the least bit interested. They were waiting like vultures waiting for the moment where Rachel would finally slip up and give them the chance to swoop in and claim everything that was hers. She knew because she had done the exact same thing once, but what she didn't realize was what she would be giving up.

And if she had, she wouldn't be walking down this street right now. She would be with Monica Geller, and maybe Monica wouldn't be like that. Maybe it was her fault, on second thought, it probably was.

She was a bitch. It came with the territory. If she wasn't a bitch, then everything would be taken away. They would see her as weak. So she had to push everyone who just wasn't right away, including her best friend. And Ross, he probably could have been a pretty cool guy, he seemed like he'd be a good friend to have in your corner, but she couldn't risk that.

Ross was the king of the geeks. And she was the Queen Bee. There are just some things that don't go together.

A red sports car sped past her, sending freezing slush across her body. She stopped dead in her tracks, anger filling her mind. Nothing could go right today.

"Dammit!" She cried, wiping the slush away from expensive black coat.

"Yo Rach!" A voice shouted from behind her, Chip Davis sat behind her in his blue sports car, flashing his trademark smile.

"Hey Chip," she put on her best fake smile. "I must look like an idiot."

"Nah, you could never look bad," he complimented. "So, anyways, I'm on my way to this totally awesome party I heard about, from Steve, you remember Steve, right?"

"How could I forget Steve!" She lied, pulling off a great fake laugh. She should, after all she had years of practice under her belt.

"Come on then, hot stuff!" He honked his horn and let out a playful hoot.

She nodded excitedly, and ran over to his car, knowing full well that Ross had seen the entire transaction from his stoop on his front porch. He hadn't left the spot yet, his eyes hadn't left her.

She climbed into the car besides Chip, giving him a small peck on the cheek in greeting. "Let's go then, babe," she smiled.

"Rad," he put the car into drive and started back down the street. He grabbed her hand, and began to run his fingers through the spaces in her own, and she smiled in recognition.

She turned her head slyly and looked out her side-view mirror, back towards the Geller house. Ross was heading back inside now, his head hung just a little lower. She could never understand why she always chose to be alone.

"Something wrong, babe?" Chip asked, noticing her sudden change in mood.

Rachel swung her head back to face him, putting on her best fake smile. "Nah, I'm good, babe. Just laughing at what a geek Ross Geller is. You won't believe what he said to me today," and there she went back to towards point of no return. Maybe one day she'd actually get stuck there, until then she'd just settle for dangling on the fence of things. Sooner or later she'd have to fall, but which side she fell on was still up for grabs.

* * *

Ross walked back inside, his pride just a little bit more damaged. He was such an idiot, he offered a shoulder to a girl who wasn't his to offer it to. He shut the door slowly, trying to avoid actually seeing the smirk on Chandler's face as he did his 'I told you so' look followed by an 'I told you so' speech. He was pretty sure he was in the works for creating and 'I told you so' dance as well. Just for him.

He dragged his feet across the carpet, trying to go as slowly as humanly possible before he had to be fed to the wolves. Or in this case, wolf. He rounded the corner, tracing his hand around the delicate angle that traced his height growth since he was three, avoiding any eye contact with Chandler.

"Dude, I know you don't wanna hear this, but," Chandler started out even before Ross had fully entered the room.

"I know, I know," he cut him off before Chandler had a chance to finish his sentence, "I told you so, I told you so!" He chanted in a mocking tone, "But I don't care alright, she was upset, I would have done the same thing if it was you out there."

"Too late, liar, to bad that happened last night and the only thing you could think of to do is send out your sister who I had spoken two words to. Thanks buddy."

"Chandler! I mean it, Rachel means nothing to me! She's just my little sister's best friend! I love Carol, remember!"

He rolled his eyes, "You throw that love around word too much, man. Everybody does."

Ross meandered back over to his pervious seat across from where Chandler was sitting. "I don't get what it is with you and love," he sat down on the chair, feeling his body being engulfed by the excess stuffing within seconds. "You know, it wouldn't be the end of the world for you to fall in love, dude."

"If I'm not there, who'll hold down the fort? My father? He seems to be the model candidate, screwing for the sake of screwing, even if it is other guys, I don't think I've seen him in a quote 'relationship' since my mother. If you could call what he had with my mother a relationship. I have a theory that he just got her pregnant on a dare or something and then had to marry her out of shame."

"Seriously dude, it's really nice having someone around who cares about you."

"But I have you for that, remember. You wouldn't want to be replaced now would you?" He smirked, "Oh my god, you're just trying to get rid of me! You've already found a replacement."

"Your full of it, dude," Ross chuckled at Chandler's antics.

"Full of what?"

"Shit, what else?"

"Thanks man, that touches me," he put his hand over his heart, "Right here, y'know?"

"So what did happen to you last night? You weren't drunk were you? Oh god, Monica's probably already plotting a revenge for this. Damn childhood. Why'd she had to be bad at everything?"

"Jeez, this complimenting thing really works well for you Ross. I don't understand why all the ladies aren't after you. I'd better call Carol and warn her to look out for possible up rises in the female population at NYU. Hell, all of New York for that matter, who knows how fast word has traveled about this marvel that is Ross Geller."

"Seriously dude, what happened?"

"Well I had every intention of getting drunk, didn't happen, came back here, hung out with your sister, and then I went to bed. Would you like a descriptive outline of my dreams? I can get that to you in a couple of days, considering the time it would take me to type this all out."

"Oh, really? Tuff break about that drinking thing, though." He looked at Chandler closely, looking for any sign of a lie, "Dude, if your bullshitting me, I swear,"

Chandler held up his arms in defense, "I swear, dude, I didn't go out and get drunk." It technically was the truth, he waited until he got back to the Geller household to get drunk and screw his roommate's sister.

"All right," Ross said slowly, "So you wanna rent a movie or something?" He changed the subject, "Might as well do something in all our nothingness."

"Nothingness, nice word. Fake word, but it's nice."

"I thought it suited."

Chandler just shook his head, "I'm gonna go and take a nap, man, I'm wiped. You can pick the plans for today's extravaganza." He stood up, setting his scraped-clean plate on the adjacent table, "You know, watch movies, eat massive amounts of food, think about Rachel, get drunk, and let's not forget, think about Rachel, the girl that Carol doesn't know that your desperately in love with."

Ross rolled his eyes, and threw a pillow at Chandler's retreating form. "Oh bugger off, man!"

Chandler just smirked, "You know, with those boyish charms, Carol should really watch out. They'll be catfights in the streets once word gets out. Both male and female participants."

Ross shot him another glare, "Oh, fuck you," he mumbled angrily.

"Ah, so the language gets a bit more colorful. Now it's really starting to feel like Christmas. All you need to do is switch the angry mumbling to enraged screams and by golly you've hit the nail on the head!" He smiled happily, as if to laugh off his comments like they were just another lighthearted joke. But he wondered when Ross would finally realize that his words were usually anything but sarcastic.

And he wondered if he'd ever stop saying them long enough to let some one in.

* * *

_Well, I would like to say, while I have your attention (that is if your reading this...if not then...why aren't you?). I'd just like to chat a little bit to maybe clear up anything that's not so clear in the writing. _

_So, we've covered Mon and Chan's problems, and we've seen how they both react to people (Mon pushes them away, while Chan keep's them at arm's length). I'd tired to get across early in the last chapter that Mon and Rach were on the rocks when Mon and Chan went to go get breakfast and she stayed behind in the Geller's house. And obiviously thier blow out tired to show that their problems were deep-rooted and shows that Monica's been like that for awhile now. _

_Now, writing Ross and Rach's dynamic and their characters were intresting. Ross is sort of that typical later middle school and into high school maturity in boys (and some girls). He doesn't have so much of a darkside as sercuity issues, and thar really comes out when he's trying to talk with Rachel. Rach, on the other hand, is extremely lonely and plays the part of the bitch because she thinks she has too. I tired to hint at the fact that Rachel can see a friendship if not a relationship between Ross and herself, but she believesthat her position in school compared to his former (and probably present) postion blocks that course from ever taking place. _

_Alright, there we go. Hopefully that cleared some stuff up. Even if you really didn't want to read it...heh...heh.._

_**Please Review.**_


	6. Slipping

_Sorry again things are taking me so long to get up. And this chappy's kinda short, but it was a good place to end it for now. _

_Thanks agian for all the reviews. I'd list your guys names again, but I really don't feel like checking that out right now. Maybe next chapter._

_Umm, for updates concerning my fics and ideas for upcomming fics, make sure to check my profile. I usually make commentary there. _

* * *

Chandler climbed up the rest of the stairs slowly, carefully examining the wall besides him in all its glory. It was decorated from head to foot in pictures of people. Smiling people. He saw Monica and Ross grow up literally before his eyes, along with several other people he assumed were cousins and other close family members.

He watched Monica slowly progress into a pit of depression, her eyes slowly growing more and more empty with each shot, her smile losing it's sparkle and gaining it's sarcastic edge. Ross was right, she had lost a lot of weight over the past year. Maybe that was her motivation, maybe that's what caused her crossover.

He strolled up the final two steps with ease and stopped at the top. He scanned the three doors in front of him, the middle one was Monica's, shut tightly to the world. The one to it's right was the bathroom, he'd seen it from the adjoining door in Monica's room. He didn't know what the one to it's left was, maybe a linen closet or something? He hadn't bothered to ask.

With a shrug, he continued on to Ross's room, which he had been told was originally the attic, but they'd converted into a bedroom when he was in high school. He'd heard Ross talk big game about that room and what he did, but he doubted any of it was true. Ross wasn't a very convincing wild child.

The most dangerous thing he'd probably ever done during his high school career was stay up way past his bedtime. That was his little rebel child. Staying up late. Not sneaking out. Just staying up late.

Not that Ross had ever confirmed these things, but the signs were there. Especially that first night Chandler had introduced his goods. Ross looked like Tammy Faye at a Goth rock concert that night. Scared shitless.

He opened the door at the end of the hallway, and walked into Ross's disaster of a bedroom. It looked as through their had been an explosion that had happened over night, but instead of an actual bomb, Ross had used his multiple suitcases and an assortment of intermixed dirty and clean clothes.

"Couldn't leave me a path, could ya, Ross?" He mumbled to himself, as he scanned the room in search of his bag. He shuffled through several pieces of clothing, much to his discomfort, and finally found his small black bag discarded at the bottom of Ross's bed.

He tired to figure out where his sleeping pills were, he was prone to getting pissy and unpleasant if he didn't sleep. The Gellers would probably kick him out if they saw him like that. Which would make it very difficult for him to screw their daughter. Not impossible, but difficult.

Enter the pills.

Granted they'd kick him out if they found out he was screwing their daughter as well, but at least he'd get a couple of good screws in before that day come. Then he'd be out of there and Monica would have to deal with the mess afterwards.

After fumbling with his bag for a couple of minutes, he finally found the small compartment where he'd hidden his livelihood. He picked up the small white bottle and popped open the top, displaying proudly the small orange and black pills.

He shook out two of the pills into his palm, then, with one swift motion, shoved them into his mouth and swallowed. Then, before the pills could take their effect, he fumbled his way back over to Ross's bed, and fell down on top of a pile of clothes.

He lay there for a moment, a thousands thoughts running through his head a second. The same ones that would always come to him before he slept. Maybe that's why he couldn't sleep. Not just some chemical imbalance or whatever, but the sheer desire to forget that these things ever happened.

He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, trying to think of anything else. Anything at all. The funny thing was, the last image he could consciously remember was the last thing he would have ever expected to see. It was her face. Monica's smiling face.

And right before he drifted off, he remembered smiling.

* * *

She lifted her last foot on to the cold, metal weigher. It was that time of the week again. Judgement day, perhaps in a dramatic sense of the activity. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and waited for the results. It only took a couple of seconds.

She looked down at her feet, looking at the bright, neon red numbers displayed just above her toes: 110. She let out a small cry, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, trying to stifle the cry as much as possible. She'd worked so hard that week. According to her predictions she should have been there by now.

But she wasn't yet. She still wasn't beautiful.

She stepped off the weigher, the numbers disappearing the second she had lifted her foot. She wrapped her arms around her frail waist. She could hear her stomach grumbling again.

"No," she whispered to herself, "You're fat enough."

She felt her knees give way, and she slumped down onto the cold, unwelcoming floor below her. She leaned her head back against the wall, she felt sick. Like she was blown up like a balloon.

Her eyes scanned the floor around her, looking for the small bottle that contained her miracle pills. Her eyes wandered over the thousands of magazine clippings, discarded clothing, and empty bottles, trying to find the small bottle.

After a couple of minutes of searching, her eyes finally fell on them, tucked between a magazine and an empty bottle. She leaned forwards, pushing herself up into a crawling position, and grabbed at the pills with a greedy hand. She stood up from the crawling position, her eyes never leaving the bottle.

"Alright, pills, work your magic," she mumbled sarcastically to herself. She opened up the pills, and spilled out three or four onto her cupped hand. She raised her hand to her mouth, dropping the pills in, and shallowed them dry.

Then she grabbed her big black sweatshirt, and walked across her room and out the door like nothing had happened. She plastered a fake smile on her face, and made her way down the stairs almost at a skip.

"Hey Mon," Ross greeted groggily from the living room.

She turned her head over her shoulder to look at her brother, he was laying like a pathetic lump in the couch. Rachel always had that effect over him.

"Whatcha up to?" He asked monotony, his lack of interest showing through. No doubt he was just trying to get his mind off of the quote 'love of his life' dash 'pain in his ass'.

"I'm going running," she stated simply, avoiding eye contact with him by looking down on the floor for her tennis shoes.

"Oh," he grunted, "You like that now?"

"No, actually the running is a cover for my top secret government hits. My target today is a retired Soviet Headhunter turned maid. They suspect her of plotting against the president. I'm the government's only hope," she rambled bitterly.

"Jeez, what's your problem. I was just trying to make conversation."

Monica shot him a look, "Were talking, does that not merit the title of a conversation?" Having finally found her shoes, she picked them up, and made her way into the living room.

"What's with you, Monica?"

"What do you mean?" She shot back, while she laced up her tennis shoes. "Can't I make a joke and not have everyone jump down by back for it?"

He shook his head, "You just seem," he sighed, "Different."

"Well that's very scientific of you, Ross. But, I assure you, I'm fine. Just the same old me you left in the fall. Promise."

"Whatever," he mumbled under his breath, not believing a word she was saying.

She stood up from her chair hastily, "I'll be back before dark. Don't bother calling in the National Guard until midnight," she muttered angrily as she walked towards the door.

"Fine," he shot back, his annoyance over taking his indifference for once.

She opened up the front door, letting the cold air hit her body before she ventured outside. Then, having sufficiently taken it all in, she stepped outside, closing the door behind her. She surveyed the area around her, mentally picking out the best course for her run today.

Maybe she'd go by the park, that always made her feel a little better. The park always had an soothing effect over her. It was one of the few places she could feel happy anymore.

"Alright then," she breathed out, and she jogged down her driveway and on to the sidewalk. Her problems beginning to drift away for the time being.

* * *

_Again, I know this was short, but I promise they'll get longer again. I think I'm going to venture into more of a romantic relationship between Chan and Mon. _

_Anyways, updates will be up when I get to them. _

**_Please Review._**


	7. The Den

_Alright, so this chapter is a little scandelious, but work with me here, okay? It's PG-13 for a reason. _

_Alright, review responses time!  
**Mondler EK: **Glad I caught your attention before I finished it. And I agree, there are way too many unrealisitc romance fics out there for Monica and Chandler. I mean even in the TV show they hated each other when they first met, and didn't fall in love for years after the show started! It's just a big pet peeve of mine. But thank you so much for your review, it was a really nice change from the "Update soon!" hack..hack...review._

_**Luthien**: I promise they won't stay so angry forever. But they'll still probably be angry! Sorry bout that, but that's the concept I'm going for. Thanks for the review._

_**Timemachine**: Thank you for taking the time to log it. Don't I feel special? Hee, hee. And thank you for the compliments on my characters, it's hard trying to get them right when your kinda doing an AU fic but not really. I mean you can mess with the characters, but you don't have as much leeway as you do with a AU fic. Thanks a bunch. _

_**Vosa: **Glad to convert you over to the Mondler side. lol. Thanks for the review._

_**Jayne Leigh: **OMG (wow, never used that before...), I was so exicted to see that you reviewed one of my fics. You are one of my favorite authors for FRIENDS! And it just meant so much for me to see you're name up there and praising me! Thank-you! Thank-you!_

_Also thank-you to: **Letmeslipaway, CM4ever, HollyShadow, anhonestmoose, rossandrachforever, jkihaopiue, Melanie Geller, and varga-girl. **_

_Sorry if I missed your name, but ifI did thank-you too!_

* * *

The party was like the others. Loud music, even louder people. Drunk people to be exact. Not that she had any problem with the practice, it just got old real quick. The second you see one of your quote "best friends" puking their guts out on any given surface, including other so-called friends.

"Hey, babe, you okay?" Chip asked, as he handed her another beer. It had to be her third one that day. He was really laying them on her today.

She shrugged, "Yeah, yeah, it's nothing, just stupid stuff, y'know?" She grabbed the beer from his hands, and took another long sip. "It's nothing, really," she added.

Chip just smiled cluelessly, and darted his eyes towards the trashed stairway. "You wanna?" He asked, quite romantically if you asked Rachel. Chip was about as romantic has a head of lettuce, and that might have been giving him a little too much credit.

"Chip," she slurred out playfully, "It's the middle of the day!"

"So, that's never stopped us before," he egged, as he grabbed her hand roughly in his own, "Come on, babe, don't waste the party!"

His words shot through her like an arrow. Don't waste the party. She'd heard that so many times before. And again she just put on her best smile and nodded, "Sure thing, babe," she choked out with feigned excitement.

He smiled brightly, "Let's go then!" He shouted happily as he took off on a bolt for the stairs. He had to let his buddies know he was getting laid, and the quiet sneak off just didn't work anymore.

Everyone had to see them leave. Had to see the light fixtures shake. Had to hear their moans of pleasure. Yeah, she'd done this before.

Chip was taking the stairs two at a time, dragging Rachel behind him in his wake, still clinging on dearly to her hand. Just in case she decided to change her mind before they reached the top. While they were still in sight of his friends.

He dragged her towards the master bedroom, just off the grand staircase to the right. Chip was grinning like a little kid at a candy store, as they made their way over in hustled steps.

"You look hot, babe," he smirked in his romantic tone.

Rachel resisted the urge to gag. You look hot, babe? This had to be God's cruel joke on her. Make the Captain of the football team a complete idiot. "Damn social standards," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that, hot stuff?" He asked, right as he turned the handle to the room.

"I can't wait," she put on her best smile again.

"Well then," he smirked as he swung the door open. "After you, milady," he raised his arm off to the side to show her the way inside.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she teased back as she walked, seductively swinging her hips back and forth in a fluid motion, into the bedroom and then onto the bed.

Chip followed suit, shutting the door behind him. "You ready for this," he asked in a husky voice.

"You betcha," she smiled back at him, "Bring it on."

He ran over to her, practically jumping on top of her in a fury of passionate kisses. His hands roamed her body wildly, feeling every part of her soft skin.

Rachel just ran her hands feverishly through his hair, matching his furry with her own. She felt his hands slip underneath her shirt, pushing it upwards until it exposed her beasts, hidden behind a black, lacy bra.

She slipped the shirt up over her head, and discarded it behind them on the bed. His lips began a trail of kisses leading down to her beasts, while his hands seemed content to lay on top of her breasts for now anyways.

Once his lips had found her breasts, he lifted her up gently from her pinned position, and unhooked her bra with expert skill. He threw the bra behind them, then, wasting barely any time at all, began another attack focused on her breasts.

Rachel let out a soft moan. He may have been a little slow, but he could fuck the hell out of her. They'd been together for perhaps a year now, and in that year had wasted no time getting to know each other intimately.

Needless to say, he knew what he was doing. He knew her.

"Ross," she moaned out, then she caught her mistake.

Chip stopped what he was doing, his breathing heavy and ragged, "What was that?"

Rachel looked at him with a shocked look on her face, "I don't know," she answered honestly, "Fucking hell."

"No shit, Rach. You gotta thing for that geek? Ross Geller!"

"No!" Rachel shook her head, "He's a geek! I love you, Chip!" Her words were hallow and they both knew it, but she continued anyways, "I don't know why I said Ross's name. I guess he's just still on my mind from his morning. You know you're the only one for me."

"That's bullshit and you know it." He muttered angrily, standing up from the bed. "I just don't get you."

"What do you mean?" She asked angrily, grabbing her formly discarded shirt from behind her. "What's there to get?"

He gave her a look, "Does it even occur to you what the hell your doing? Even associating with that guy! Rach! He's social suicide!"

"I know that!" She shouted angrily at him. "But, Chip, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there all I know is that I was talking to Ross earlier and it was still on my mind, alright! I fucked up, okay! You've done it too!"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You can't keep it in your pants and the whole school knows it!"

He threw back his head in laughter, "You're one to talk! You've fucked more guys then I can count! And most of them have been during our relationship, wouldn't you say?"

She gave him a glare. "Then where does that put us?"

"Well apparently you've been screwing a geek, so that might put us on the outs."

"That's crazy!"

"What is? You screwing Ross? Everyone knew he had a thing for you last year, hell he's had a thing for you forever! How do we know that you haven't been screwing him all along?"

"Hey! We're not exclusive and you know that better then anyone!"

He smiled, "So you admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"You've been screwing a geek. I knew it."

"No! That's bullshit!"

He leaned in his face close to her own, so that their noses brushed just ever so slightly. "I know you, Rachel Green," he whispered threateningly, "I know all about you. All your little secrets. You're thoughts. Where you go when you say you have to spend time with your family. And I'll expose you. I'll expose you for what you really are."

"And what am I?" She shot back dryly, doubting that he lacked that kind of intelligence.

"You're a sheep in wolves clothing. They'll eat you alive."

"I'm not going down."

"After this?" He chuckled, "You shouldn't even bother showing up to school when breaks over."

Rachel looked up at him, thoughts shooting through her head at a mile a minute, but somehow, in all that chaos, she couldn't formulate any words to say.

Chip just pulled back from her, chuckling softly to himself, "And that my friends, is the real Rachel Green for you."

She felt a lump grow in her throat, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry in front of him. With lighting speed, she bolted for the door, back down the stairs, ignoring the stares of everyone around her, grabbed her long back coat, and then shot out the door.

She'd finally done it. She'd been thrown to the wolves, and her only weapon had finally crumbled from her grasp.

* * *

_I know I have really gone past the Mondler centric fic, but the more I wrote about Rachel or Ross I realized that even if they are undertones to the larger problem, I still needed to explain them a bit more so that they weren't so flat. _

_**Updates up when I can get to them.  
Please Review.**_


	8. Opening Pandora's Box

_Well, I'm back for the time being with another set of updates. I'm sorry I'm so sparatic (and even worse at spelling) with my updates, but things just keep getting in the way and it's hard to find time just to chill out on my computer anymore. Yes, I did in fact say 'chill out'. And yes, I fully expect mocking for that statement, but it's true! lol._

_Thanks for all the reviews on this fic, and I have seen it posted on several C2 lists which is a huge compliment. So, thanks again._

_Alright, I'll shut up now. More comments at the bottom, I assure you._

* * *

Monica sat down hard onto the cool park bench. Nobody was out on the play structure today. Hell, it probably wasn't the smartest idea for her to be running outside in her worn shoes. Lack of traction and ice never did go well together.

She breathed in deeply, letting her head fall backwards and her eyes shut softly. It was three miles here, another three miles back. She could feel her stomach's pings of pain, it's low rumbling apparent to any one around her.

She rested her hand on top of her restless stomach, "Shh," she whispered, "Stop that. You're almost there. This is almost done."

She could feel her heart beating quickly, and her breaths became shallower and shallower. She'd pushed herself too far again. The rank smell of vomit filled her nostrils, but she had gotten used to the taste over the months.

"Go big or go home," she chuckled out breathlessly. Her eyes began to feel heavy again, and she rested her head backwards for a second time.

Within no time her body slumped downwards, and she was granted her wish. She felt herself go away.

* * *

For the first time in her life, Rachel Green regretted her life's work. From the tender age of three she'd wanted to be one of those girls. The head cheerleader, most popular, homecoming queen, platinum blonde, and spanking rich girl that everybody knows. Each second since then, she had worked, trained even.

She practiced her greetings, studied hours of teen movies, blew off her homework assignments to give her that cool rebel child exterior, cut friends out of her life to get in with the right people, and it all came down in one moment. It was maybe halfway through freshmen year, and everything rode on that moment.

She'd passed with flying colors.

Since then she'd been one of them. Slowly working her way to the top, until, finally, one day she'd gotten to the top. It was everything she'd always dreamed of. But somehow, it seemed hallow.

It was lonely at the top.

No, you couldn't tell from looking at her. She looked like the epitome of perfection. But even perfect has its blemishes. Monica's downfall had been obvious, she couldn't believe that the Geller's had missed it. But Rachel's downfall had been in every way perfect. After all, it was her own creation, how could it not be perfect?

Chip, through his half of brain, had somehow seen it months ago. He was probably just waiting for the day for her spiral to end and for her to splat on the floor half the girl she used to be. He'd move on to the next girl waiting in the wings, Mindy, Rachel's so-called half-wit of a friend, was the most likely candidate. She always was a scheming little bitch after all.

A girl after her own heart really.

But in all that training she'd never once thought to prepare for a situation like this. Ross Geller. She knew he'd be the end of her. And now the secret was out. The end was near.

She probably only had two weeks and one day left to live. Until that Monday came. She always knew she was treading on thin ice, but she had never imagined the crack coming so soon. But, what was done was done. The crack had been made. Sooner or later she'd fall in completely.

* * *

Ross slumped lazily on his living room couch, his fingers thumbed through his biology class notes absent mindedly. He probably should study, the semester exams were coming up shortly. Practically just after the Christmas break.

"This is so stupid," he mumbled to himself, "Come on, just study, you idiot. You've done it hundreds of times before. Just look at the pretty notes and read them carefully. Maybe ask yourself a question or two, Einstein." He chuckled a little at his own joke.

He heard a soft, unsure knocking at his door, interrupting him from his pathetic laughter. He feigned disappointment as he slammed his biology notebook heavily, and walked over to the door. It was probably Monica back from her run, must have forgotten her key.

He'd learned his lesson from wishing it was somebody else a long time ago.

He gripped the door handle harshly, trying to regain his composure. Then, having waited a sufficient amount of time without appearing to be not home, he swung the door open,

"I knew you'd forget your keys you," he caught his breath when he saw who it was on the other side of the door, "Carol?"

"Hey!" She smiled brightly, enveloping him into a tight hug, sealing it off with a friendly kiss.

"When did you get here?" Ross smiled, "I thought you weren't coming 'til after Christmas! Y'know, the whole family thing!"

"Well, I just missed Chandler so much, and I heard a rumor that he was staying down here, so if you'll excuse me I must go find my lover-boy!" She said dramatically, swinging her head back in traditional 'swoon' fashion.

Ross smiled, leaning down and kissing her again. "I missed you too, babe." He held her in his arms for a little while longer, both content just to be with one another, even if in silence, again.

Carol dropped her arms from around Ross's neck, and bent over and picked up her small duffel bag. "So, this is it, huh?"

Ross nodded happily, "Yep, this is it," he grabbed the duffel bag from her and lead her inside the house. "You want the grand tour, romancing, foreplay, and all that jazz, or would you rather just get down to it?"

She hit him playfully on the arm, "Always the gentlemen."

"You should start warning the other girls, word might leak out about me," he smiled, copying Chandler's previous comment.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

He nodded, "I love you too," he smiled faintly.

* * *

She didn't know how she had ended up back there again. It was like some force was brining her in, and she didn't have sense enough to see it. But then again, on an entirely different level, she knew exactly why she was there.

She needed to finish what she had started.

You can't open Pandora's Box and just close it like nothing happened. And Rachel's box was darker then anyone could have ever imagined. It was only a matter of time before people started whispering about her, then another girl would slowly work her way in and take away Rachel's throne.

She stared up at the Geller household, for the first time frightened to go inside. She'd been outside on their doorstep for almost fifteen minutes now, she was probably getting the neighbor's talking again. She seemed to do that more times then not.

She breathed in deeply, holding the breath inside of her body momentarily, just long enough for her to feel the tension, then she let go with a slight opening of her mouth. Calmed slightly, she raised her hand to the door, and brought herself to knock softly at first, then it grew with confidence.

She held her breath as the door opened. She hadn't meant to, it just happened.

"Rachel?" Ross asked breathlessly, his hair mangled and his clothes wrinkled and miss-buttoned.

"Hey Ross," she breathed out slowly, just as a young blonde woman approached Ross from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist protectively.

"What's up, sweetie?" She asked softly, "Who's this?"

"Oh, Carol, meet Rachel, Monica's," he paused, stumbling momentarily, "Friend," he finally made out, "Rachel this is Carol, Mon's probably told you about her, right?"

Rachel felt her smile falter a little, not much, but enough. "Oh, yeah, silly me for forgetting. She told me you were coming down, I shouldn't have bothered you guys." She held up her hand in a sort-of wave, and started back down the steps.

"Wait! Rach!" Ross called after her.

Rachel felt her heart jump a little. She turned back around, "Yeah?" She said breathlessly, her eyes still trained on the happy blonde besides Ross.

"Do you want me to tell Mon you stopped by or something? She's out running now, but she should be back soon. I mean she left like an hour ago."

"Oh, she won't be back for awhile. When she runs, she really runs. So, yeah, that's okay. I'll just call her or something, y'know. With a phone. It's no biggy."

"Sure?"

"Positive," she offered another hallow smile. "See ya around, Ross, and nice meeting you, Carol." Rachel spun back around and started back down the walk, for the first time feeling the pressure of the evil she had unleashed on her shoulders.

"You too!" Carol called happily to Rachel's retreating figure.

Ross turned in to face Carol, shrugging slowly, "That was odd," he commented.

"Why? She seemed nice enough, I'm sure she just didn't want to bother you, that's all."

"Carol, that girl makes her life by bothering other people!" Ross explained, "She's just like a drug except worse cause she's your little sister's best friend and you can't get rid of her, even with those patches."

Carol smiled, "Wow, somebody's got some unresolved issues."

"Whatda mean?"

Carol shook her head, and headed back inside the house, Ross following quickly in pursuit. "She seemed like a perfectly nice girl, I don't understand the drug reference."

"It's just that. She gets under your skin while you smile and watch it happen, but don't understand it cause she's so good at making it seem like she's this amazing girl but in reality she's just waiting for the opportune moment to make your life miserable!"

"Ross," Carol said shortly, but was cut off from the rest of her sentence by the sudden, shrill ringing of the telephone. "Just get that, okay? We'll finish this later."

Ross grumbled out something incoherent, and walked over to the phone sitting on the table a few feet from them. "Yea?" He mumbled out angrily at the person that dared interrupt his conversation with his girlfriend.

His anger ceased just as soon as the person on the other end began to talk.

"O-okay, We'll be right there. Yeah, yeah, I can get a hold of them, no problem, none at all." He paused for another long moment, listening again. "Hey, is she, is she okay?" He stuttered out oddly. "Alright, thanks anyways, we'll, we'll be right there."

He hung up the phone numbly, his anger completely forgotten. "It's Mon. There's been some kind of accident. She's," he paused, trying to collect his thoughts, "She's in the hospital."

* * *

_I was having a lot of trouble making up my mind with this chapter. I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep going with the Geller's in the dark about Monica's problems or if I wanted to stick her in the hospital quite yet. Whether or not they become fully aware is still up in the air as well. _

_The fact was, though, I did start out with a slower pace, but the fic needs to go somewhere and I just didn't want to drone on forever and forever. The characters need to grow somehow, and they needed the conflict to arise in order to do that. So, I finally decided on her going to the hospital and am now crossing my fingers that it wasn't too soon._

_No worries about Mondler moments, they'll be comming at you in tons soon, you just gotta let me get there. I know a lot of people were fusterated about my lack of focus on them and more on Ross/Rach, but I've already explained my reasoning for that. So please, just bear with me, okay?_

_**Thanks for reading  
Please Review.**_


	9. The Long Road

_Alright, live and kickin' for the time being. Getting a lot of updates up in short periods of time (for me anyways) but still, don't count on this lasting forever. Well, as I was posting this, I thought that it was about time that I got back to you guys on the reviews so:_

_**Rachgreengeller**: Wow. You review a lot. I don't mind or anything, but, wow, now I feel like I have to review one of your fics or something. Maybe a fruit basket. Are you a fruit basket kinda gal? lol. Sorry, I have a strange sense of humor, don't mind me. I'm glad your picking up on all the little character things I put in here, I kept getting reviews telling me about how the person is skipping all the ross and rach stuff, but I kept wanting to scream at them that the ross and rach stuff is just as important to the story as the mon and chan stuff, so I was glad to find somebody who'd own up to not only reading it, but enjoying it. _

_But, I have seen you writing a lot of creative ideas for fics. IM some time, it might be fun to work together. I've got AIM, it's Arwen396. _

_**Mondlerlove**: Ahh, thank-you. It's nice to get compliments like that. I like feeling loved. _

_**Melaine Geller**: I still find it endlessly amusing how different our fics have turned out. And the fact that two seperate people came up with simlar concepts, but still. _

_And I'm also really glad that the things I want to convey in the charaters aren't completely lost. I've never really done this type of story before, and it's been a lot of work, but I think it was worth it. _

_Thanks to: **luthien, shoppinggal87, Titulation, Mondler EK, vosa, Sea, and Jayne Leigh**_

_If I've missed you, I'm sorry, but a big thanks to you too! _

_On with the story!_

* * *

A thousand thoughts per second raced through Ross's mind, ranging from waking up his sleeping roommate to calling his parents to the awe-inspiring question of what the hell was his baby sister doing lying in some hospital bed instead of her own?

"Ross?" Carol asked tentatively, jerking his out of his shocked state.

"I gotta call Rachel," he blurted out, "And Chandler! Dammit! We gotta wake up Chandler! We can't just leave him here! And my parents!" That thought hit him like a ton of bricks: his parents. His proud, smiling parents. "Oh my god," he slumped down onto a nearby chair, "My parents," he repeated breathlessly.

"Okay, okay, I'll go and wake up Chandler, you get on the phone to whomever you need to call and I'll meet you back down here, alright? Then we'll drive down to the hospital, and we'll check on your sister, okay?"

Ross nodded slowly, "Yea, yea, that'll be best. He's up in my room. Take the stairs, last bedroom to the right. You can't miss it. Only one with a sleeping Chandler in it," he offered a weak smile with an even weaker attempt at humor. He couldn't fool her.

She gave him a reassuring squeeze of her hand, before she jumped into action, taking the stairs two at a time. She was practically just a whisp of blonde hair, then she was gone behind the wall.

Then his eyes moved back down to the phone clutched in his hand. He couldn't remember the last time he was afraid of an inanimate object, whether it be the dark or his parents leaky pipes that make their living making strange noises at night, but he did at least remember being young when all of that happened. Here he was a young nineteen-year-old college student, afraid of a simple phone call.

A phone call.

He had to have made at least a hundred billion of those in his lifetime, plus even. But he couldn't stop shaking.

With an unsteady hand, he slowly punched in the familiar numbers to his father's work phone. With each new number trying to work out in his head what exactly he should say. But what could you say to a man who's only daughter was in the hospital for god know's what reason?

"Jack Geller," his father's voice rang over the phone, cheery as usual.

Ross's heart sank just hearing his mood. "Hey, dad," Ross said softly, "I need to get this out,"

"What is it,"

Ross cut him off before he could finish, "No, please, no interruptions. I can't handle interruptions." He breathed in deeply, preparing himself for the news, "Monica's in the hospital," he spat out as quickly as possible, wanting it to be over.

"What? Why! Where is she? Oh my God."

Ross just listened to his father continue through word, trying his best to formulate a sentence, but just couldn't get the words out.

"Ross?" He heard Carol's from behind him. He turned around to see her leaning on the banister, Chandler sleepily in tow. "You ready?"

He held up a finger telling just to hold on for just a second, "Dad, dad," Ross suddenly found his voice again, "Dad, I need you to call mom. We're going down to the hospital now. Just please, calm down, okay? I'll meet you there." And without giving him so much as a second to argue, Ross swiftly slammed the phone back down on the receiver, jumped up and grabbed his coat off of the chair next to him.

"Dude, where the hell are we going?" Chandler mumbled sleepily, "What's with everyone?" He stumbled down a few stairs, then stopped, putting his hand to his head, "Woo, remind me not to do that again."

"Chandler, are you okay?" Ross asked, handing him his coat.

Chandler nodded, "Just peachy, man. Tip top shape, really. I'm the king of the world!" He reached out for the coat, but missed it by a few feet. "Dang, the thing kinda gets away from ya, huh?"

"Are you drunk?" Ross asked bluntly, "Cause if you are, you are totally staying home! I am not taking you to the hospital like that!"

Carol shook her head, grabbing the coat from Ross and shoving it on Chandler herself. "No, no, Ross, I think he took some of these," she shoved a bottle of pills at him.

"Wow, Ross. You got'ch yourself a nice girl here. Better be careful. I might try to steal her!"

"Sleeping pills? Why the hell does he have sleeping pills! He sleeps like a rock! He doesn't need sleeping pills!"

Carol gave him a look, "Haven't you ever wondered about Chandler?" She whispered hoarsely.

"Whatda mean? He's Chandler, a little quirky, a little aloof, I'll give you those two, but otherwise perfectly normal. I've lived with the guy for half a year now! Don't you think I would have noticed if something was off!"

Carol shook her head, "We'll finish this later, Ross," she said shortly, "Right now we have to get to the hospital to see your sister, okay?"

"Fine!" Ross snapped, "Let's go!" He grabbed Chandler's shoulder, and pushed him towards the door.

"Jeez, man, lighten up a bit," Chandler mumbled, barely making out the words.

Carol swung open the door, "Let's stop wasting time," she sighed, as she grabbed Chandler's hand and lead him hand in hand out of the door.

"Dude, you're girlfriend's into me. Told ya I was screwing her on the side!"

Ross let out an annoyed growl, "How long does that stuff last?" He gritted out angrily, following Carol and Chandler out the door.

Carol shrugged, "I don't know, Ross," she mumbled out matching his anger, "I'm not a doctor!"

They marched over to Chandler's car, in that pushed way. It was hard to imagine that just fifteen minutes ago they had been necking on the couch like a couple of high schoolers.

"Chandler, give me the keys," Ross shoved out his hand in front of him, having had enough of Chandler on sleeping pills to last him a life time.

Chandler sleepily reached inside of his coat pocket, fumbling through the cigarettes and lighters in search of the keys. "Hang on a sec," he mumbled out, as he continued his search, then he felt one, "There!" He shouted, as he lunged his hand forwards, then produced a set of jingling keys decorated with one measly little key chain that said, "my karma ate your dogma".

Ross grabbed the keys out of Chandler's hand, "I'm driving," he proclaimed stubbornly, "Can you sit in the back with him. Make sure he doesn't go back to sleep or anything."

Carol nodded, "Alright there, Chan, into the backseat we go."

"Really? With Ross up front and everything? Damn, I was kidding before, but Carol you really are a wild child," Chandler smirked.

"It appears that even sleeping pills does not stop him," Ross mumbled half-heartedly.

Carol rolled her eyes, and pushed Chandler down into the car. "Let's just get there, okay?"

Ross nodded, the reality of the situation coming back to him. Chandler always was a nice distraction, but that's all he was. A distraction from the truth. But the truth always came back, and it always came back with a vengeance.

"Yeah," he said somberly, "We should pick up Rachel on the way. She'll wanna be there. She's probably at her house."

Carol bit her lip, holding back her comments. He was depressed. His sister was in the hospital. That's all it was. Rachel is his sister's best friend. She'd want to be there. That's it. That's all he's thinking about.

"Yeah, we should," she finally breathed out, "Good idea, sweetie."

Ross nodded, and started up the car. Rachel's house was just down the block from their own, it was on the way. He was just being a good brother.

He backed up down the driveway, an uncomfortable silence filling the car, interrupted only by the sound of Chandler's soft snoring, two feet down the street, but that did nothing to pierce the silence.

Ross drove down the street slowly, his parents didn't need two children in the hospital, and found himself outside of the Green house in what seemed like an eternity. He put the car into park, sighing softly.

"I'll go get her. You can't move anyways," he mumbled, noting how Chandler had positioned himself conveniently on his girlfriend's lap.

"Yea, I'll be here."

He nodded, "I'll be just a second, okay?" He climbed out of the car without waiting for a reply and wandered up to the Green house. The walkway seemed longer then usual. Not that he had walked up the walkway much, but in the course of Monica and Rachel's friendship, he had managed to walk over to the Green household on a few occasions.

But this time was different. He could feel Carol's eyes beating into the back of his skull. And the worst part was, that he wasn't sure where Monica and Rachel stood. They seemed pretty angry this morning.

He raised his fist, and knocked hesitantly on the door. Maybe she wasn't home.

The door swung open within seconds after he knocked, revealing a rather distraught looking Rachel. "Hey Ross," she lit up a little at the sight of him.

"Look, Rach, I don't know what was going on this morning with you and my sister, but I thought you might want to know that, umm," Ross spat out his words as quickly as possible, trying to give her little to no room for interruptions. It was hard enough doing this once.

"What is it?" Rachel asked softly, her eyes darting outside of her house towards the car parked in front. "What's going on?" She asked, unsure of what to make of everything.

"It's Mon," he breathed out, "She's in the hospital."

Rachel felt her face fall. "No," she whispered, "Monica?"

He nodded, "We're going there now, we just thought you might want to come along. Y'know, to see how she's doing."

"What happened?"

He shrugged, "They didn't tell me."

"I'll get my coat," she announced, disappearing into the house for a moment, reemerging moments later, a coat haphazardly thrown on in the most un-Rachel Green manner.

"Let's go," she walked quickly out of the house, making sure to shut the door behind her, and then down onto the walk towards the car, Ross following in pursuit.

The car ride over to the hospital was even more uncomfortable then the ride down the street. Tensions were high, Ross couldn't help up notice that Rachel Green, the Rachel Green, was sitting just a few feet from him (a fact that didn't slip past Carol either), and Chandler's sleepy snores didn't exactly go over well with anyone.

"So, do you guys know," Rachel finally broke the silence, "Y'know, how she is?" She said shakily, not wanting to offend anyone.

Carol shook her head, "I don't know, Ross took the call. He's the man of the hour, apparently."

Ross just shrugged, "They weren't saying much. Your dad's a doctor, right, Rach? Is that a good thing when they don't say much? It just means there was nothing to major, right?"

Rachel breathed deeply, her mind working overload through all the things her father had ever told her about the medical world. "Depends," she finally made out, "Sometimes it just means that the person just broke their arm or something and need a ride, or they could just have sensitive information that they think the family would like better to hear in person rather then over the phone, or," she stopped, biting her lip before she could continue on.

"Or?" Ross prompted, "What?"

"Let's just get there, okay?"

"Or what, Rachel?"

Rachel sighed, "Or things are so shitty, that they don't want to tell you on the phone so that you'll get in an accident coming over there. It's their way of covering their asses."

Ross squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter, "But that doesn't happen a lot does it?" He asked, willing to accept a lie.

Rachel forced a small smile on her face, "Yeah, barely ever," she lied. She reached over to Ross's side of the car, putting her hand over his, "You gotta calm down," she whispered, trying to get him to relax his hand. "You're gonna hurt yourself like that."

"Let's just get there, okay?" Ross tried to sound sort and annoyed, but he knew neither girl bought for a second.

Rachel obviously got the message, and took her hand back, rubbing it nervously in her other, and her eyes, having returned to their cold orbs, trained straight ahead.

His eyes, on the other hand, glanced back nervously at a very annoyed Carol. She wouldn't say it, but he could see it. It was one of the things he noticed first about her, her little quirks for each mood. It had taken him awhile to get it down to an exact science, but now he felt pretty positive on his conclusion.

She always fumbled with something angrily when she was annoyed. Today's victim: Chandler's hair. Needless to say, the rest of the car ride ensued in that awkward sort of silence, their words (only when absolutely necessary) were always brief and their tones forced with only the incessant sound of Chandler's snoring to carry them through the long drive ahead.

* * *

_I think I divided this story up more in my original copy of it, but I think it does okay flowing as one big piece. I really hope you mondler fans didn't just skip over this, because it really wasn't ross and rach action, it was setting up conflicts for later in the story. So, please, I know that a lot of you guys have averison to these kinds or parts of stories, but please at least skim through, would you? Thanks._

**_Updates will be up sooner or later.  
Please Review._**


	10. The Build Up

_Chapters have been much easier getting out now that I have everything pretty much set up, now things are really just starting to come to a boil and all the problems I have been thinking through and thinking of how to present have finally come into play. Yay for me._

_Comments/Reply's to Reviews:  
**Luthien: **Thank-you for your compliment about Carol. I wasn't sure how I wanted her to come across, but I knew I wanted to give her something different. The scene in the car was a complete fluke on my part, I was just sitting there, thinking maybe she'd fumble with stuff cause fumble's a fun word (I know, how author-ly of me) and I typed it in, then I realized I had Chandler's head in her lap and I swear there was a light blub. _

_And as for Chandler, I really wanted to bring back in that sort of dark humor I had in the begining, I've kinda lost it on the Ross/Rach/Carol story lines. And I really had no idea what it'd be like to wake someone up who was on sleeping pills, I don't even know if it's even possible, but I kinda figured "let's just make him act like he's drunk! That'll be fun!" _

_**Samm: **Aww, thank-you. You think I'm awesome? I love you!_

_**Melanie Geller: **Thank-you about the RR and CM! I have actually gotten reviews that state how people skip over the RR stuff, and it pisses me off so much! It's the fic as a whole, things besides the possible romance (which I'm not even sure will exist entirely through the fic, it might just be an ending thing...you know for Chandler to over come his whole anti-love thing) between Mon and Chan. Ugh, it just bugs me. _

_Anyways, I'm glad you find my Chandler on sleeping pills amusing. No idea what actually happens if you wake a person up who has taken sleeping pills, but I decided to go with a sorta drunken Chandler because that would be the most amusing. And I really needed that sort of dark humor that I had in eariler chapters to come back, so I figured drunk Chandler would do the trick._

_And speical thanks to: **Mondler EK, Tilulation, mouse, and rachgreengeller **for their reviews as well. _

* * *

The hospital seemed much bigger now. More intimidating then ever. Ross found himself outside of it, just staring at it. He felt Rachel to his right, her look just as complex as ever, and Carol to his left. Chandler slumped lazily on Carol, half-asleep, half-awake.

"Shouldn't we go in?" Carol asked tentatively, "Maybe your parents are here already."

Ross nodded slowly, "Yeah, the sooner the better, probably." But he made no effort to move. Carol just offered a weak smile, and took his hand in her own, and led him into the hospital, leaving Rachel to deal with Chandler.

"Do you see them anywhere, Ross?"

He looked around, "No, but," he nudged his head over towards a nurses station just feet away, "Maybe they can tell us where Mon's room is. Maybe they're already there."

Carol nodded and made her way over to the nurses' station, dragging Ross slowly behind her, no willing to let go of his hand. Rachel made her way over, helping keep Chandler propped up, bur wasn't covering much ground quickly.

"Excuse me," Carol asked, being the only one present with continuously good verbal communication skills, "Can you tell me where Monica Geller's room is?"

The nurse nodded and looked over at her chart, "Yes, what is the relation to the patient?"

She pointed to Ross, "This is her brother, Ross Geller, and we're friends of the patient."

"Is something the matter with that gentleman over there?" She pointed to Chandler, who was still being propped up by a very annoyed Rachel.

"Oh he's just great," she muttered out dryly, "A hoot."

"He's okay, he's just really tired right now," Carol explained, leaving out the little information about the sleeping pills. It was better not to mention such things until their origin was first found.

"Alright, dear, if you think so. But since you are not all family members, only Mr. Geller will be able to see him, you three will have to get permission of the family to visit Miss Geller, understood?" Carol nodded, "Alright then, she's just down the hall there, room thirteen."

Carol nodded, "Thank-you," she smiled faintly, then pulled Ross down the hallway towards his sister's room without another word, Rachel and Chandler trailing wordlessly behind.

"I could have talked to her, you know."

"You could have," she repeated, her tone annoyed.

"You didn't let me."

"Don't get into this, not right now, Ross. Let's just worry about your sister first, okay?" She huffed, dropping his hand, and walking just up to the doorway to room thirteen. "Alright then, you go in, maybe you're parents will already be there.

"You can come in if you like, I don't have a problem with it."

Carol just shook her head, her hands already fumbling with the hem of her shirt, "No, no, I'll just wait out here. I'll get you if your parents show up, alright?"

Ross nodded, "Are you sure you don't want to come in."

"Positive," she hissed.

"You just go ahead, Ross, we'll wait out here for your parents," Rachel encouraged, having finally made it down the hallway, practically dragging Chandler behind her.

He nodded, "Alright then," and walked into the small hospital room.

Carol and Rachel looked at each other uneasily, it seemed they may have started out on the wrong foot of sorts. They both took an awkward seat, Rachel choosing to sit a couple down to the right, tossing Chandler onto a row abandoned chairs just to the right of her, and Carol took a seat a couple to the right of Chandler.

And for as much as they were trying to avoid each other, they still weren't far enough by a landslide. Both blondes sat in silence, Carol choosing this time to size up this new dirty little secret of Ross's.

"So, Carol, right?" Rachel started uneasily, "How long have you and Ross been together?"

"I thought you said Monica mentioned it." She said shortly, not evening bothering to make eye contact with the girl.

"Have you ever lied to cover your ass before?"

"Fair enough," she paused, "We've been together for about two months now, give or take a day."

"Oh, wow, two months, huh?"

She nodded, "Yep, two months," she repeated.

"And they love each other, isn't that just splendid?" Chandler added in, having apparently heard the conversation.

"Oh, wow. Okay, thanks, crazy guy who I've dragged down this hallway," Rachel commented, "What is his name? I know Mon told me this morning, but I really don't remember."

"His name's Chandler," Carol corrected her, "Chandler Bing."

Rachel cracked a small smile at the name, "Damn, his parents must have hated him."

"Never liked them either," Chandler mumbled out sleepily, having already closed his eyes and was half way gone.

Rachel looked down at him, unsure if he was really awake and was kidding, or really was almost asleep and just didn't know what he was saying or didn't think to restrain it. She looked up at Carol, who just looked ahead impassively.

Rachel shrugged, then looked down at her feet, finding nothing else to look at. She didn't know how long they sat there in silence, not daring to even look at each other, but it seemed like an eternity before Carol broke the silence.

"So, when did you guys break up?"

Rachel jerked her head up, "What?"

Carol looked over at Rachel, her hands still fumbling angrily with a paper cup in her hand. Rachel hadn't even noticed the blonde's disappearance let alone her reappearance, "When did you and Ross break up?"

Rachel forced an amused smile, "Oh, no, eww, Ross! We never dated! God, we were on two entirely different planets in high school." She tried her best to force a laugh, but she couldn't help hearing Chip's voice repeating over and over again in her head.

"Bullshit."

"What are you talking about? Me and Ross are nothing. We aren't even friends for Christ's sake! I mean, yeah I try and be nice to him cause he's Mon's brother and all, but we are like this," she pointed her fingers to two opposite directions, "Polar opposites. And believe me, opposites do not attract."

Carol just shook her head firmly, "You and Ross obviously have something for each other. I assumed you guys used to date and I'm the rebound girl. You don't have to lie to me. Nobody acts like that if they never even liked each other in the first place. You wouldn't be sitting here anyways. You'd be in there. With Monica."

"Act like what? I told him to fuck off earlier! Is that code for 'I'm secretly in love with you, Ross' or something? And so I wanted to give Ross a sec to deal with what's going on alone! Fucking hell, man."

Carol just shook her head, "Whatever," she mumbled out, now fumbling with the fabric of the chair next to her. "It's just so, er!"

"What the hell am I doing? How many times to do I have to say it? I'm not here for Ross," a small lie, "I'm here for Monica! She's my fucking best friend!" An even bigger small lie. Technically that friendship ended that morning. "Do you have a problem with me visiting my best friend in the hospital?"

Carol shook her head angrily, "You have no idea what the hell it feels like to have this absolutely wonderful boyfriend bending over backwards in front of you for another girl. Hell another beautiful girl!"

Rachel stood aback, not sure of what to say to something like that.

"You know what, Ross thought of you first when the hospital called, you were the first person that came to mind. Not his parents. Not his best friend. But you, the supposed non-friend, non-ex-girlfriend. And when you showed up on his front porch, he couldn't stop talking about you until the phone rang, then you came to mind again! And he just had to stop at your house to pick you up! And you know what, you're not so innocent either!"

"Look, I'm,"

"You're sorry, I get it, but I can't take this."

"Listen, you need to talk to Ross, not me, okay?"

Carol began ripping the cup apart ruthlessly, "Yeah, well he's not exactly one of my favorite people in the world right now."

"Well you're not exactly on my Christmas list either, but I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Carol stopped fumbling for a second and looked up at Rachel, "Why do you have a problem with me?"

"Oh please, first you shove this guy on me and run off with Ross as fast as you can, then you sit there and accuse me of being in love with your boyfriend, which is complete bullshit by the way," she always had an aversion to the truth anyways. Even as a child she avoided it like the plague.

Carol began fumbling again, her lips puckered together in that angry 'I want to say something but I know I shouldn't' kind of way.

"Look," Rachel sighed, "Maybe it's better if we just don't talk, okay?"

Carol nodded along in agreement, "Agreed."

* * *

Joey Tribbiani had never meant to fall in love so soon in life. For all intensive purposes, when the right girl came along he was sure he'd do all the cliché things such as falling head over heels for the girl, marry her, make babies with her, and love her until death did they part.

But he had just never guessed it'd be so soon.

As he walked hurriedly down the hallway, he felt an almost tunnel vision about him, all he could see was her room and nothing else. Sometimes it was better that way, not to see the grieving that took place in these halls. Sometimes seeing the people left behind was even more depressing then hearing about the dead.

"Excuse me, Mr. Tribbiani?" Sherry, one of the senior nurses approached him. Needless to say, this was not his first time visiting her in the hospital.

"Come on, Sherry, how long have ya known me? Call me Joey like everybody else," he tried to put on a good face, but he knew it was as fake as a Roflex watch sold by an even faker salesman.

"Mr. Tribbiani," she continued stubbornly, "I'm sorry, you can't go in quite yet. Her family's with her now."

"Whatda mean, family? She's homeless, her family left her in the dust, why the hell did you let them see her!"

"Mr. Tribbiani, this is her twin sister, and I am not about to deny a girl the right to see her sister. Especially since she seemed so broken up about the whole thing, poor girl."

"Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. You let Ursula in there! Ursula! That girl could care less about what happened to Phoebe!"

"Listen, Mr. Tribbiani, when you first brought Ms. Buffay in here, you told us she had no family so the hospital let her leave in your care, only to have her return on several occasions mind you, and let you visit her without family consent. Now that we know she has one, we cannot let you continue to see Ms. Buffay until her sister okays the visit. Do I make myself clear?"

Joey rolled his eyes, "Crystal," he mumbled angrily.

"Now, go have a seat, you can talk with Ms. Buffay, the sister not your Ms. Buffay, when she comes out, understand me? Under no circumstance, with the exception of alien adduction, are you allowed in that room until you have been cleared by Ms. Buffay."

He mutter something incomprehensible, then plopped himself down onto a nearby chair, just to the right of a set of blondes and a sleeping man.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Tribbiani." Sherry smiled cheerily as she walked back down towards the nursing station.

"So, what are you here for?" Joey mumbled politely to the blonde next to him. Sometimes people preferred talking with others about why they were there, for some reason they found comfort in knowing they weren't alone.

"What?"

"Who are you visiting, why are you visiting? Do you even want to be talking to me? Whatever, just speak," Joey didn't even bother with eye contact this time around. He had seen and heard why too many sob stories, sometimes it was better not to look the people in the eye. It made it a little less real.

"My boyfriend's sister's in here. We don't know why. Nobody's told us anything."

"Is she under eighteen?"

"I don't know," Carol shifted her eyes over to Rachel, a non-verbal clue that is was okay to enter the conversation.

"Just turned, last month."

"Well she's still in high school I guess, right?"

Rachel nodded, "Senior."

"Then they're just waiting for guardians to arrive before they brief you guys on her condition. Well, they'll brief family unless they give you permission."

"Do you work here or something?" Carol asked, "You seem to know a lot about the inner workings of a hospital."

Joey shook his head, "Nope, don't work here." No more no less. That was his philosophy. He didn't need to share his sob story with anyone, never felt the need. "What's his deal?" He nudged his head towards the sleeping man lying in between the blondes.

"Sleeping pills. He'll be out another couple of hours, then will be back to his witty self." Carol explained briefly.

"Ah," Joey answered, then they went back into that uncomfortable silence that always accompanies waiting rooms of any sort, hospitals especially. They sat there for a good fifteen minutes, until Phoebe's door opened.

Joey jumped out of his seat the second he saw the door handle move. The door opened slowly to reveal a scantly dressed Ursula Buffay in all black, no doubt she had told the nurses she was grieving for her poor sister.

"My, my, if it isn't Joey Tribbiani," she curled out her words between pursed lips, "And here I'd thought you'd be long gone by now."

"Ursula, just give me permission to see your sister, okay. We don't have to talk and act all buddy buddy again, alright? We're over that. I just want to see my girlfriend."

She shook her head slowly, "Tisk, tisk, is that any way to greet an old friend? And besides, I don't know if I want to grant the man that allowed my precious little sister to develop such a," she paused, "Habit," she emphasized the word like it was poison, "In to see her again? That would be endangerment."

"You know that's a load of shit. You gave her the drugs, not me."

"Well I haven't seen you do anything to stop this? How many times has she been to the hospital this year alone for treatment. She was a real record holder back home. But I'm sure you at least remember that, if not your family or your friends."

"Look, Ursula! I'm not gonna get into it with you here, okay!"

She shook her head, letting out another couple of 'tisk' sounds from her lips before she walked seductively away. "And don't even try going in there, Joseph. I couldn't let the boy that hurt my darling little sister anywhere near her, I wouldn't be a good sister, would I?" She called over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway.

Joey felt all of the anger that had spent months boiling up inside of him finally come to a boil. "Ursula!" He yelled down the hallway after her, "Don't do this, Ursula!" But his words fell on deaf ears. "Dammit!"

* * *

_I know that Joey's a little out of whack character wise, but I really needed him to be like that for this. Please don't send the pitchforks and torches on me just yet. More Mondler action to come, just give me a sec to wake Chandler up and get the parents to the hosptial. Hopefully I'll be able to do that within the next chapter, if not that one, then the next. _

**_Thanks for reading.  
Please Review._**


	11. Medical Opinions

_Things are really gonna start kicking into high gear now. More Mondler moments to come, just wait for the night. I think we're gonna be at the hospital for a little while longer. _

_More Ross/Rach/Carol drama comming soon, along with more details into Joey and Pheobe's story. _

_Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are too kind :blushes: _

* * *

Monica looked so small lying in the hospital bed. Her body looked so frail, like a toothpick. It was such a shock seeing her like that, when he had last seen his little sister she had been triple that size, not to mention a lot happier.

"So, how are you feeling?" It had been an awkward experience ever since Ross stepped inside that hospital room. He was starting to wish he had been a bit more firm and insisted that someone go in with him. "Bad?"

"No shit, Sherlock. I'm here for a reason."

"Which you haven't mentioned yet."

"I don't know what happened. Guess I worked myself too hard. I fainted. And now I have a cramp."

"Come on, Mon, I'm not an idiot. Something's going on with you."

"Nothing going on with me, Ross. I'm fine. The only reason they're keeping me here is because I'm dehydrated, okay? I'm fine." She said shortly, barely keeping eye contact with him. Something had woken him up, maybe now he might notice how different her eyes looked now.

"So, I called mom and dad. They should be here pretty soon."

"You didn't have to do that."

"They would have wanted to know."

"I'm fine. This is nothing. They'll re-hydrate me up, then send me on my merry way."

"Carol's here. Rachel and Chandler too."

"Why Rachel here?"

"She is your best friend, isn't she?"

"No."

"Come on, Mon, you had a fight. You'll move on. She's your best friend and will always be your best friend. One fight isn't gonna change that."

"Ross, we haven't been on the same planet since we started high school. This was a long time coming. I don't know why we bothered for so long."

"Bullshit. You know that's not true."

"Why do you even care, Ross? Is it because you might not see your darling Rachel anymore? What about Carol? How do you think she'll take the fact that you're in love, hell have been in love with practically forever, with Rachel Green."

"Hey! Rachel's just your friend to me! I love Carol!"

"Whatever."

"You know, I don't know what it is with you and Chandler and this aversion to love. I mean, I guess I could understand why Chandler might be slightly negative about it, but you have no reason to act this way!"

"What way?"

He waved his hands around in annoyance, "Are you kidding me! Monica! You have to know that you've changed!"

"People grow up, Ross. It's a fact of life. And here, I thought you were the smart one in the family."

"Don't do that."

"What the hell am I doing, Ross? Tell me! What is so fucking wrong with everything that I say that you have to jump down my throat because of it!"

"I'm not jumping down your throat!" He shouted back at her, his anger growing inside of him, "I'm just worried, okay? It's perfectly normal for a guy to be worried about his little sister!"

"I'm fine," she repeated, just as shortly.

Before Ross could say anything else, the door swung open and revealed a very distraught looking set of parents.

"Oh my god, Ross! Thank-you so much for calling us!" Judy praised her son as she walked into the room open armed, "You're so brave, taking care of everything like this!" She grabbed her son and clutched in his a death grip of sorts.

"So, how are you feeling, Monica?" Jack asked as he walked over to her bedside, "One of the nurses said a doctor would be in any minute, but if you'd like we can bring in Rachel and everyone. You've got quite a group out there."

"Yeah, Carol's out there," Ross added, "She had pretty much just gotten here when the hospital called."

"Oh that pretty little thing is Carol?" Judy squealed, "Jack! Think of the children they would have!"

Ross forced another chuckle, "Getting a little ahead of yourself there, mom."

"Well, then who's that other guy out there? Italian-looking man, he was talking to Carol. I just assumed he was another one of your college buddies, Ross."

"Dad, it doesn't matter, okay?" Monica cut in before Ross could answer, "Let's just get this little doctor visit over so I can leave."

Before anyone could respond, another heavy knocking and the screech of the swinging down interrupted them. A well-dressed doctor walked into the room, his nose buried in some chart, most likely Monica's.

He lifted his head out of the chart and looked over at Monica, "Alright, Ms. Geller, Monica Geller, am I correct?"

"You caught me," she mumbled out half-heartedly.

He offered a fake smile, revealing his sickeningly white perfect teeth, "The nurses said you had a witty sense of humor."

"Is she going to be alright, Doctor?" Judy asked, "We just got the call from our son, Ross," she motioned over to Ross to her right, "And all he knew was that Monica was in the hospital."

"Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Geller. She's just a bit dehydrated from what I can tell, that's all," he smiled again, then turned back towards Monica, "Now, it says here that you were running, do you do that often?"

"Yea."

"How far did you run today?"

"About three miles, give or take. Can I just get home now?"

"And what have you eaten and drank today?"

Monica paused, "I had a glass of water this morning, I wasn't hungry, then I went out for my run. I usually eat afterwards. It's not a big deal."

"Alright then," he noted something on his chart, then lifted his head again, "Alright, so, Mr. and Mrs. Geller, I'll just need to talk to you two out in the hallway for a second, maybe give your daughter here a second to talk with her friends out there, and we'll get this thing all settled!" He smiled cheerily, the fakeness showing through blatantly.

"Sure thing, doctor," Judy nodded sternly, then turned to Monica "We'll give the okay and send everyone in to see you, sweetie."

Monica plastered on an even faker smile then the doctors, "That'd be great, Mom. Perfect." The thing with sarcasm was that her parents never quite understood it. It was how she had gotten away with so much over the years.

"We'll be right back, Harmonica," Jack encouraged, then followed Judy and the doctor out into the hallway.

Once outside, the doctor let his smile drop, revealing a much more serious, older looking doctor. One that actually could be trusted.

"Carol, Rachel, and Ross's roommate," Judy announced, "Chancy, Chancer? Jack! What is that boy's name?"

"It's Chandler," Carol corrected, "And don't bother with him. He's asleep. There will be no waking him, trust me."

"Thank-you, Carol dear, now you two can head in there and visit with Monica, alright? We'll be along in a minute."

Carol and Rachel nodded, then both stood up and walked in to the room wordlessly. They didn't even bother looking at each other. Sometimes in order to keep up appearances extreme measures had to be taken.

Once the door closed behind them, the doctor started in, "Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Geller, I brought you out here on a speculation, now this does not mean this is the absolute truth, but in my medical opinion is the most likely thing happening here."

"What's going on?" Judy, the ever-vocal one, asked, "What's wrong with Monica?"

"Well, it's her story. It just doesn't account for what happened. Skipping breakfast wouldn't case a person to faint and vomit. That takes a long time of skipping meals. Out of curiosity, I checked your daughter's charts, and it says here that last year your daughter was over two hundred pounds, correct?"

Judy nodded, "Yes, but she's been working hard at losing the weight, I can assure you that it was all completely natural. We live in the same house, don't you think I would have noticed if something was wrong?"

He shook his head, "In some cases, no. Your daughter is very good at covering up the truth."

"Are you calling my daughter a liar?" Jack gasped.

The doctor shook his head, "No, not at all. I probably phrased that the wrong way. Anorexia Nervosa is a physiological disease. What I'm assuming that that your daughter began by cutting down on snacking, maybe what she ate at meals, then began cutting actual meals, to eating barely anything at all. She thinks she is doing a good thing, that she is in control. That she can stop at any time. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

They nodded, "But it doesn't make any sense," Judy commented, "I would have noticed."

"As I said before, your daughter is probably covering it up. Thinking that she is in control, that nothing is wrong."

"We don't eat out meals together, anymore, Judy," Jack commented, "We really wouldn't have noticed."

"But she's my daughter, Jack. I should know these things."

"Again, this isn't fact. This is just my medical opinion on the matter."

The conversation continued into details, but the supposedly sleeping Chandler had stopped listening by then. That was the thing about sleep. You always saw other's true self's when they thought that you would never hear.

And he couldn't help but sneer at the doctor's cheap plug for the Gellers to believe his version: 'it's my _medical _opinion'. How can you argue a medical opinion? He left the Geller's no opinion other then believe him or look like complete idiots.

It was funny, when that word _medical_ was thrown in, people were willing to drop all of their previous beliefs, drop all family bonds, just because this doctor's medical opinion contradicted their own. But the thing was that in all of his _medical_ opinions he had failed to notice one tiny little detail: he couldn't save a girl that wasn't there anymore.

Monica had left a long time ago. Just as he had. They had sold their souls and accepted their miserable, lonely fates since then.

* * *

**Updates up soon.  
Please Review.**


	12. Cigarettes

_Sorry this has taken me so long to get up! I've actually had this chapter done for awhile now, but the site wasn't letting me log in (or anyone else for that matter, I noticed) so I just now can get this up._

_Thank-you so much for all the reviews! This will be my first fic (of hopefully many) to break a hundred! lol. I'm a loser like that. _

* * *

Joey stared absent mindedly at the door just feet in front of him. And he couldn't get that old, over-used saying out of his head "so close, yet, so far away". Ursula was a royal bitch if there ever really was one, and she wore her crown proudly, flaunting it at every occasion deemed important enough for her presence. 

Apparently her sister dying registered at something she should attend at some point in her life. But the fact was that she would have noticed, or rather yet, would have started caring a long time ago, before everything got so fucked up if she really cared that much about Phoebe.

If she cared even one iota as much as he did.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tribbiani," Sherry, the one and only nurse that would deal with him anymore announced herself, "But Ms. Buffay has made her wishes clear. You are not to see her sister."

Joey bit his lip, "You're making a mistake."

"It's hospital policy," she said shortly, offering no condolences, no words of encouragement, no 'I tireds', nothing. Just nothing.

Joey stood up from his chair, "Look, I know you must think I'm some kind of screw up, but letting Ursula not only see Phoebe but control what happens to her is the biggest mistake you could possibly make! Maybe we're not recognized by the state as relations, but I am more like family to her then Ursula could ever be!" He kept his voice low, but the anger and sheer disdain of his words were still heard as if he really was shouting them for the whole world to hear.

"Mr. Tribbiani, its hospital policy. There is nothing I can do. You can either wait here or just go home. It's your call."

Joey sat back down in the chair, burying his face in his hands. "Could you just," he breathed out, "Just open the blinds for me? Can I just look at her through the window? That's not against policy is it? I just, I just want her to know I'm here."

Sherry gave a weak smile, "I'll see what I can do. I think it's possible though."

Joey nodded slowly, knowing just looking at her though a window still wouldn't calm him, but it was a step up from where he was at now.

"What's your deal?" A voice asked from besides him.

Joey lifted his head out of his hands and turned to look at the once sleeping man wide awake and kickin' in the seats to his left. "What?"

"Why are you in here? What was with that blonde bitch earlier?" He explained slowly, "Keep up."

"How did you,"

"I should have been an actor. Would have made millions. Alas, my drinking and smoking habits were not strong enough to catapult me into that super star level of screwed and I am left here to die alone, friendless, and without a star on the walk of fame."

"You have a very over active imagination."

"I've been faking sleep for the past hour or so, I had to entertain myself somehow."

Joey smiled faintly, "You're alright man."

"Well, golly gee, mister. Aren't you just the sweetest thing?"

"So what's your deal? You're with those two girls, right?" Joey asked his usual question. It was better to keep the attention away from him, that had always been his survival motto.

"Yea, I'm here with them."

"Are you visiting that girl, Mona or something?"

"Monica, ish. It was sorta involuntary."

"How so?"

"I was fucked up on sleeping pills when we left. I really didn't have much of a sane mind to disagree or whatever. Besides who can say no to a chick with an ass like Carol's?" He chuckled at his own little joke, "Ross would have killed me for that one."

"Ross?"

"Roommate."

Joey nodded uncertainly, not really understanding but not really caring at the same time, "Okay."

"Carol's boyfriend," Chandler elaborated further. Both men sat in silence for a moment, having nothing really to say to each other.

The nurse, Shelly, was the first person to break the silence, "Mr. Tribbiani," she announced, "They have allowed me to open the blinds as long as you promise to stay outside of Ms. Buffay's room."

"I thought I wasn't allowed in anyways," Joey smirked smartly.

Shelly rolled her eyes, "You've been in here enough times for us to know that a hospital policy isn't gonna stop you from getting in that room."

"Fair enough."

"The second you try and step foot in that room, the blinds are shut and you are to be escorted form the building. Are we clear?"

"Jesus, what's with those rules? Harsh enough?"

"Mr. Tribbiani, I hope you are familiar with the saying, 'cover your own ass'?"

He shrugged, "Might've heard of it."

"Well that is exactly what the hospital is doing. Ms. Buffay, the sister, has already taken the liberty to inform the hospital that if you dare come within five feet of her sister that she will personally see to it that she takes everything we own down to the last IV machine. Do you understand?"

"She's bluffing. That girl ain't got shit."

"No, she happens to be engaged to be married to the best lawyer in the city. She has the cards."

Joey sighed, "Fine," he mumbled, "I won't enter the room. Can you just open the blinds? Perhaps deliver a note or two that I write her? Would that be breaking Ms. Buffay's fucking rules?"

"We'll arrange it," Shelly mumbled as she walked towards Phoebe's room, "Alright, now that you understand, we can open the blinds. And Joey," he jerked his head in her direction. "Don't fuck this up, okay? You're a good kid."

He nodded softly, a small smile cracking his lips.

"Alright then, so we're clear?"

"Crystal," Joey confirmed. Shelly nodded, then she turned promptly and opened the door into Phoebe's room just enough for her to squeeze in, then shut it tightly behind her. Moments later she appeared at the window, raising the blinds up inch by inch.

"Tough," Chandler commented as he rummaged through his pockets. During the conversation, he had somehow switched from his previous laying down position into a more awake looking sitting position.

"No shit," he agreed.

"So, feel like answering my question now?" He asked as he continued rummaging, "There we go!" he mumbled to himself as he pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"That'll kill ya, y'know."

"Yea, so will a car crash. Don't stop most people from driving though, huh?" He pulled out one of his cigarettes, and put it to his lips. "So, explain. What was with that bitchy blonde earlier?"

"It's," Joey paused, waiting for some grand way of escaping an explanation to come, "Complicated."

Chandler lit his cigarette, "You're good at avoiding questions, has anyone ever told you that?" He breathed in deeply, before letting a cloud of smoke from his lips free.

"You're in deep shit if they catch you smoking that in here, did you know that?" He countered, eyes darting towards Phoebe's room, just waiting for Shelly to come out and have a fit.

"Ah, fuck them."

Joey raised an eyebrow, "You apparently haven't met Shelly yet."

And, as if on cue, Shelly walked out of Phoebe's hospital room just as Joey finished off his thought, "Sir! This is a hospital!" She scolded Chandler, "Get your ass outside! Now!" She put her hands on her hips, and looked at him intently.

"I promise I won't blow smoke in the people's faces," Chandler mumbled weakly as he continued to smoke.

"Ass. Door. Now." She said shortly, "Do I make myself clear?"

Chandler sighed dramatically, before pushing himself up like a punished two-year-old who found the punishment quite unjust, and sauntered down the hallway towards the door without another word.

She marched after him, "And don't make me go down there and check on you!" She continued on her verbal tirade as she walked.

Chandler stuck his middle finger up high and proud. It seemed fitting for this current attitude towards the entire situation.

He could hear Shelly practically stop in her steps, her offense obvious even to someone who was turned away. And he couldn't help but smirk as he lowered his hand down and stepped outside into the snow, puffing on his cigarette as he went.

"Bet you're proud of me now, pops," he mumbled to himself, letting out a small chuckle. "I finally learned something from ya."

* * *

Carol and Rachel inched nervously into Monica's hospital room. Rachel, because she didn't know how Monica would react, that had always been the problem in their friendship. Both of them were too stubborn for their own good. And Carol, because, well, she didn't exactly know why she was there. At first it had been for Ross, but now, now it seemed like he was off on some other continent screwing some other girl. 

"Hey Mon," Ross broke the silence first, "This is Carol. You remember me telling you about her?" Monica grumbled a response, whether it was positive or negative was anyone's guess. "Well," he continued, "This is her."

"Hi, Monica," Carol said awkwardly, "I'm sorry we had to meet under circumstances like these, but it's nice to meet you anyways," she offered a weak smile, "Ross has told me tons about you," bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Ross had told her that he had a sister, and her name was Monica. End of story.

Next page please.

"Chandler's outside," Rachel offered, bringing herself into the conversation, "He's ah, kinda, well, out for the moment."

"I thought you had other friends to visit with, Rachel," Monica said sourly. "Better friends. Cooler friends. I thought I was just fucking holding you back."

"Monica!" Ross scolded, "Rachel came here to see you! And you go off on her like that!"

"Oh, yea, lover-boy. Defend my ex-best friend, why don't you?"

"Monica," Rachel pleaded, "Don't do this. Not here." She glanced her eyes nervously at Carol, who sat there fumbling with the end of Monica's sheets angrily.

"Whatever," Monica rolled her eyes, "It must be the drugs. I'm never like this, I swear," she said sarcastically at Carol.

"So, how long are they going to keep you for?" Carol asked, forcing her words out.

"I donno. They say I'm dehydrated or something. The doc went and talked with my parents a second ago, which doesn't sound good cause they sent the dynamic duo in here, so who knows what's up."

"Mon," Rachel butt in, "I know you better then that. I know you know."

She looked at the other girl intensely, "No, Rachel, I don't know."

"Mon, you read people like they've told you their life story before they've even spoken a word to you. I know you know."

Monica sighed, "No, Rach, I don't know," she continued stubbornly. Both girls knew it was a complete lie. This whole room was one big lie, why not keep up with the charade?

The door swung back open, revealing Jack and Judy, both looking a bit shaken up. "Well, the doctors want to keep you a couple more days, for some tests," Judy said vaguely.

"Just to make sure you're okay," Jack continued. Apparently he had also caught on to the lying game. "Wouldn't want my Harmonica to come with some life-threatening illness now would we?"

Judy elbowed him in the gut, "But the doctor said for you to get plenty of rest, so he asked if we could keep our visit short. But, he said that we are welcome to stay just outside if we wanted, so I'm sure Ross, Carol, Rachel, and that other boy would love to stay and keep you company, wouldn't you guys?" She looked up at Ross pleadingly.

"Umm, yeah, wouldn't want to leave you alone, sis!" Ross put on the fakest smile to ever grace the earth. It even bet some of Monica's best, but still wouldn't compare with one of Chandler's. He was the master after all.

"All right then," Judy smiled. She walked over to her daughter, giving her a warm hug, "Love you," she sang.

Jack was right behind her, scooting in for a hug the second Judy cleared the way, "Love you too, Harmonica."

"Yeah, love you too," Monica mumbled half-heartedly. "But I gotta sleep, doctors orders, so I'll see you three later then," Monica said the last part more firmly, glaring intensely at the three. Jack and Judy nodded at each other, before both turning and walking out of the door without another word.

"Bye," Ross continued his smile, "We'll just be outside if you need anything, okay?"

"Whatever, Ross," she mumbled, lying back down onto her bed.

"See ya, Mon," Rachel smiled softly.

"It was nice meeting you!" Carol called sweetly as the three turned towards the door and walked out after Jack and Judy.

"It was nice meeting you," Monica mocked in a high-pitched voice, "Yeah, well same to you!" She mumbled out angrily.

She lay in her bed for awhile, sleep not coming to her. It wouldn't come for awhile, it never really came much at all. She had learned to how to function with little to no sleep at all, and once you had gotten in the habit, it was hard coming back out.

And the worst part about it was all she could think about was how much she wanted a cigarette.

* * *

More romantic entanglements to come!  
Watch for a short and sweet Joey and Pheebs story explanation!  
And of course that Mondler action!

Please Review.  
Updates up as soon as possible.


	13. Joseph

_I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but it just seemed like such a good place to end that I couldn't pass it up. _

_In response to your reviews:_

_**Rachgreengeller: **Sorry this took me so long to get back to you on, but in chapter 11 Joey was not hitting on Carol. I just wanted to show how much Joey has been in a hospital waiting room to the point where he knows how people need to deal with stuff (through talking through/explaining whatever). Thank you for the review._

_**Janye Leigh: **I felt so bad for leaving Chandler out for so long, but I didn't really have the need for him yet! lol. How many chapters was he out for anyways? I should count that sooner or later. lol. Thanks agian for the review, you already know how much they mean to me comming from you (I love your stories! lol. Sorry, fan girl moment, I know)._

_**LucyGoose: **Thank-you for the review and for not taking my comments as bitchy-ness. I'm glad you found my fic! hee hee._

_**Melanie Geller: **I know what you mean about the immature reviews, I get that way. I go all the way through making my comments, and then completely ruin the whole respect thing at the end when I end up throwing in an OMG. lol. Thanks agian for the review._

_**MCEJBing: **I'm glad you like the intertwing. I was so unsure when I first posted this fic if people were gonna go with this angle, but so far people have seemed to like it! lol. Thank-you for the review._

_**Jennyblueeyes**: OMG I love you. (And I promise I'm mature and will try to hold back on my usage of OMG seeing as how I mock people on a daily basis who overuse it). You're review made me so happy and so flattered. I hope your not disspointed by this newest chapter!_

_Also thanks to: **Tiluation, Samm, Luthien, CM4ever, and mam. **Again, I'm sorry if I missed you or never got back to you on anything. I'm not sure if I replyed on chapter ten or not, I only went back as far as eleven to check, so yeah, in short, if I did miss you, I'm sorry! And thank-you!_

_I'm done now. On with the story!_

* * *

Joey stared intently through Phoebe's window, his nose just inches away and his breathing showing up in little circles on the window. She looked so sick. She was not the girl that he had run away with two years ago. Then again, he wasn't the boy he'd used to be.

He was a man now.

He lifted his hand up to the glass, and began tracing her outline lovingly, a goofy smile taking over his lips. That girl had a spell over him, and he didn't mind. She was so intoxicating in every way, worse then any drug out there, and he didn't mind the addiction. In fact, he thrived from it. She was probably the only person keeping him sane at the moment.

"Hey, Pheebs," he whispered at her sleeping form, "I wish I could be in there with you, but this is the best I can do," he paused, feeling his smile grow fainter, "Just, y'know while you're in there anyways, get better. I can't take care of you, hell, I can barely take care of myself. But I want to. I want to make you better, but I don't know how. I know I have to start getting better too, and I am.

But you, Phoebe, you're better then this. This dirty life. You deserve a big house, somewhere out in the country, but not boony-ville or anything. Just somewhere away from here. And you could play your guitar everyday, and sing to your kids, cause you're gonna have kids. Wonderful kids. Beautiful kids. I can't imagine anything ugly coming from you. Shit, I'm rambling again, huh?"

He sighed deeply, "Just, get better," he whispered again. "I can't do this without you." He finally leaned his forehead against the glass, closing the just inches of space between him and the window. Now it was just the matter of the window accidentally falling out and him of course following the rules of Mr. Newton himself falling into her room. Perhaps in a chair next to her bed. And his hand could accidentally land in hers, and in order to break the fall clasp on to her hand.

Hmp. Hopefully the courts would believe that story. Granted he'd have to wait for the cover of darkness so that no one would see him, break the window, and then claim he slept through the entire thing and that's why he never moved.

People are stupid. If he was tried by a jury of his peers, then they might buy it. He'll just have to sit there like a wounded puppy and hope for the best.

"You know, Joseph, I never took you to be this pathetic."

The same strained, sarcastic voice filled his ears. She was back. The bitch was back. He bit his lip, hoping she might go away as long as he didn't encourage her. Hopefully.

"I mean, standing, or should I say leaning against, my sister's window, I should think you a Peeping Tom or someone along that line. And talking to yourself to boot! People here must be wondering if you happened to wander on the wrong floor, the psych wing is two floors up and to the right."

"I'm sure you know exactly where that is. It is where you picked up that fiancée of yours, correct?" He mumbled bitterly, unable to hold back his tongue.

"Ah, so he speaks!"

"Oh fuck off, Ursula. Just let me see Pheebs, all right? I'm sure you have plenty of planning to do for that wedding of yours. And the sudden, tragic death of this so-called lover of yours in the days to come. Sad really. And I really thought you two crazy kids just might make it."

"And have the life that you and my sister dear have? Aw, you'd really let me have that kind of life? How sweet of you. You really shouldn't have."

Joey pulled up from the window, "Don't say shit like that," he warned as he turned around to face her, "Me and Phoebe love each other, that's all that matters. And if you were even one iota as happy as me and Pheebs are when we're together, then I'd personally punch God myself for letting you have such a feeling."

"My, my," she pursed her lips, "Aren't we the delusional one."

"What?"

"You and Phoebe could never be happy. Not after what you've done. I'd personally punch God in the nose myself if he let you two abandoners be happy," she mimicked his line mockingly, "But on that level, I guess, you to deserve each other."

"Fuck off." He turned back around towards Phoebe's sleeping form, hoping Ursula would take the hint and leave. Not that she ever did.

She smirked, "It appears I've struck a nerve, Joseph. Oh, by the way, how is your family doing. Last time I heard they had to move to another, even smaller apartment. Couldn't manage to make rent again, y'know? I always wanted to check in with your dear mother, but it seems that I don't have their new phone number or address, could you possibly give it to me?"

He shallowed hard, trying his best to maintain a straight face.

"Oh, what was that?" Her smirk grew, "Do you not know about your family's financial crisis? Well, it all started when your father finally got fired from his job, because he was spending too much time trying to track you down. Then your poor mother's bakery was just having a really slow year, and barely came out even. Leaving your seven sisters to work these minimum wage, possibly illegal jobs to help make rent because your father can't manage to find another job because of his lack of skills. Sad, really."

He felt a single tear fall down his cheek, one finally springing past his defenses. On one hand he held a sickly girlfriend and on the other he held what he had done for the girl. Who he had left behind. And Ursula was doing a damn fine job of laying a guilt trip on him. No doubt she'd be practicing for his moment for years now, just picking up little tidbits of knowledge here and there and embellishing her own thoughts and ideas on them.

"Joseph?" She asked in a sickening sweet voice, "My, my, Joseph, what could possibly be the matter? Is that fact that you and my dear sister here left your respective families high and dry to go and pursue your little Broadway careers? And how is that going, by the way? How many shows have you been in?"

"Dammit, Ursula," he croaked out, "Just shut up, okay. Just shut the fuck up and leave me and Phoebe the hell alone."

"But I could never leave my little drug-addicted sister, especially in her time of need."

"I can take care of her. We don't need you."

She walked over, the clicking of her heels beating almost as loud as the heart monitor attached to Phoebe he could hear so loud and clear through the little crack in the door he'd propped up earlier. She stood besides his, arms cross against her chest.

"You could never take care of anyone," she said coldly. "You can't even take care of yourself." With that she turned on her heel, and the dull clicking of her sharp high heels slowly drew further and further away from him.

But even as the sound diminished into nothing, the pain only seemed to strengthen. And soon the only sound he could really hear was the sound of his heart finally shattering.

* * *

**Updates up ASAP  
Please Review. All the cool kids are doin' it.**

(lol. I have a strange sense of humor, don't mind me)


	14. Miss Queen of the Universe

_Woo! I broke one hundred! This is my first fic to ever break one hundred reviews! And yes, I am quite a dork, I know this. _

_**MJEGBing: **I promise, Mondler is comming. I know I keep saying it'll be soon, but when I'm working on this, I realize that it just doesn't make sense to jump to a Mondler moment for the characters. But I promise, Mondler action will make an apperance. _

_**Tilulation: **I feel stupid for asking, but what does x10 (besides the obivious times ten) mean? I'm smart, I promise! I do have a 3.5 GPA! _

_**Samm: **I'm one of those people that has to find the right place to end a chapter. I know people are fans of the cliffhangers, but I don't exactly agree with what most people do on the site. They leave they chapters in funny places, messing up the flow, y'know? And I'm glad you like the Joey/Phoebe story line, I've had it in my head ever since I introduced them, and was just waiting for the right moment to bring it into play._

_**Luthien: **Phoebe will make an apperance, I promise! I just want to bring Joey more into the story first. You know, more interaction between him and the rest of the gang. _

_**Dreem: **I'm glad you decided to read my fic. I know this sound stupid and conceded, and probably not in the least bit true, but since I posted this, a lot more dark FRIENDS fics have been making their way onto the site and I'd like to think that I sorta started this little fad. Either that or just added fuel to the fire. Eh, it's probably not true, but it's a nice thought, huh?_

_Also thanks to: **LucyGoose, Rachgreengeller, Shoppinggal87, **and **Jennyblueeyes**_

* * *

Ross, Rachel, and Carol made their way back to the empty seats outside of Monica's room in a dead, but tension filled, silence. Rachel made her way to one side of the chairs and Carol darted to the other. Ross stood noting the visible distance between the two along with the noticeable distaste for him in general and opted for the seat smack dab in the middle. Sometimes it was best to try and make everybody happy.

"I still can't believe she's in there," Rachel blurted out. "I mean, I know she's done some pretty stupid things, and I know there's more going on here then dehydration, but she's in the hospital."

"No shit, Einstein," Carol mumbled angrily from her side of the chairs.

Rachel shot the other blonde a glare, "Jesus! All I've done is try to be nice to you, why the hell do you keep coming after me like that!"

"I'm not coming after you. You make me sound like the big bad wolf or something," Carol crossed her arms against her chest.

"Well you've huffed and puffed enough!"

"Both of you!" Ross shouted before Carol would retaliate, "Just cool it, alright? We're here for Monica, remember? Just keep that in mind."

Carol sighed, "Look, I'm gonna go and get some coffee, anyone want anything?" Carol stood up from her chair and made brief eye contact with Ross, but ignored Rachel.

Ross shook his head, "No, I'm good, thanks."

Rachel remained silent, her arms now crossed and her eyes dead ahead.

She nodded, "Alright then, I'll be back in a little bit," she mumbled out half-heartedly as she walked off in the direction of the nurse's station.

Ross and Rachel sat for a few moments in complete silence. Both not knowing exactly how to break the silence, or even if they should even break it at all. Carol had made herself pretty clear over the past few hours.

"Hey, where'd did Chandler go?" Ross finally broke the silence, hoping to switch the conversation to something that sort-of, but not really friends might talk about without Rachel noticing. Carol was already pissed off to the extreme. That's why she went to get coffee. She always craved coffee when she was angry.

"I donno. Probably woke up and walked off somewhere. Don't worry about it, he'll probably be back later."

"Yeah, well, it's Chandler not what might happened to Chandler that I'm worried about."

Rachel shrugged, "Ask that guy," she nudged her head towards the man leaning against the windowpane of the room next door. "I think his name's Joe or Jim or something like that."

Ross nodded, "Yea, maybe," he mumbled. He sat in a silent debate for a couple of seconds, before speaking, "Hey," he called loudly over to Jim or Joe.

He turned around, "Yea?"

"Did you happen to see a guy, a little shorter then me with light brown hair and a black coat around here? He might have been sleeping then woke up."

He nodded, "Yeah. Talked to him. He went out a little while ago for a cigarette. Flicked the nurse off in the process."

Ross nodded, "Thanks," he waited for the man's name.

"It's Joey."

Ross nodded, "I'm Ross and this is Rachel," he nudged his arm to his right, "You visiting someone, or do you just have some kind of weird fetish with sticking your head against windows or something?"

Joey gave him a look, "I'm waiting for someone, and I don't want to know if you knew or know somebody with a fetish for window pressing, thank-you."

Ross shrugged, "Just making conversation."

"Ross, just leave the guy alone. You're creeping me out," Rachel whispered.

He shrugged, "Ah, thanks Joey," Ross ended the interaction simply and neatly. Then he turned back to Rachel, "Yeah, so Chandler should be back in a little bit then," he commented.

"That's nice, I guess," Rachel mumbled out. "Go Chandler."

"Yea, he's probably just out having a smoke. Just don't understand why he felt the need to flick off the nurse. There goes any free stuff or over-the-top service we might have been able to get."

"What? Did you expect for them to wheel out some roll-a-ways or something for us to sleep on tonight?"

Ross shrugged, "I donno. That would be nice though."

The conversation fell into another silence. Ross sat twiddling his thumbs, while Rachel continued to stare at her feet, seeing as how it was the only safe direction. If she looked down the hallway she risked the chance of seeing and making eye contact with Carol and if she looked over at Ross she ran the risk of Carol seeing her look a Ross and get the wrong idea. So besides the wall in front of her, which she had already stared to death, she had her shoes left to look at.

She decided to break the silence this time. It was Ross she was talking too. He had always offered up a shoulder even when she didn't want one, and now that she was ready, hopefully the offer was still good.

"I still can't believe we're here. I mean, I know Monica's sort of had a rough time these past couple of years, but still. This is the hospital. And I can't help but think it's my fault, y'know? I mean, I should have seen it coming. Or, maybe I could have spent more time with her, y'know?"

Ross shook his head, "I can't believe you just said that."

"Said what?"

"That is so typical of you," he continued his little rant like she had never said anything.

"What?"

Ross shook his head, "Nothing. I don't want to get into it. Not here."

"What, Ross? What is so damn typical of me? Concern?" Rachel spat back at him, the days frustration finally reaching its boiling point.

"Just drop it, Rach," he said shortly.

"No! Tell me, Ross. Apparently you find something so terribly wrong with me, and I think I should know!"

"Okay. You wanna know?"

"No, Ross, I've been kidding this entire time," she deadpanned, "Yes! I wanna know!"

"You can't come out of your little Rachel Green land for just one second, one second, and feel bad for another person! Hell, even think about another person! Monica's dehydrated, yes, but that's because she didn't hydrate correctly. And yet, somehow, someway you find a way in your little Rachel Green mind to bring it back to yourself."

Rachel jerked her head back, "I don't do that. I think about other people."

"Yea? When, Rach? When have you ever thought about someone else without it having to do anything about you?"

"Plenty of times!"

"Just give me one example, Rach! That's it. Then I'll shut up and apologize and you can go back to your perfect little Rachel Green Land."

Rachel bit her lip, "It's not true."

Ross shook his head, "I don't know what I was thinking," he sighed to himself. "You'll never change." He stood up from his chair without waiting for her to respond, and walked off in the same direction Carol had.

"Ross!" Rachel shouted after him, "Ross, stop, dammit!" She felt her tears building up in her eyes but he just continued to walk away. "I'm not that girl," she mumbled to herself. "Dammit."

She'd seen this scene thousands of times before. Except now it was backwards. And he wasn't acting.

* * *

Chandler took in another long, angry drag. His cigarette was almost gone, but he intended to smoke it until the last breath of poisonous air could be breathed in. This was exactly why he hated holidays. Or any large group gathering for that matter. Somebody was always screwing somebody else's wife, somebody was always cheating somebody else out of money, and somebody was always lying to somebody else. And when all these lairs and cheaters came together in one room for any extended period of time, things were bound to slip out.

That's probably what gave family its comedic charm in the first place. This group of people who are supposed to be looking out for each other are really the cause of each other's demise.

Behind him, the door swung open quickly and then slammed shut angrily. Angry footsteps pounded against the pavement, along with disgruntled noises.

"Chandler?"

He turned around, and saw the familiar blonde behind him. The one he'd heard so much about, had even sang about a couple of times, and the one that Ross claimed to not be in love with. "Oh, hey, Rachel. Thanks for uh, well, dragging me down the hallway. Hope I didn't try to grope you or something."

Rachel raised her eyebrows slightly at this, then shook her head. "Do those really help?" She pointed at his hand.

"What?"

"The cigarettes. I heard they're supposed to be therapeutic or something. And after today I could really use a lot of therapy."

Chandler shrugged and handed her his half-filled pack. "Therapeutic, yes. Deadly, yes. You sure about this?" She pulled out one of the smokes and stuck it in her mouth, "This isn't exactly a Girl Scout approve activity."

"Well, neither is sex, but that didn't stop me from fornicating with the best of them."

He grabbed his lighter from his pocket, and flicked it open, looking at her intently for any sign of doubt, but her eyes looked back at him boldly, as if daring him to do anything different. He flicked the switch until a small flame appeared, then held it out in front of him. Rachel leaned in just far enough for the cigarette to reach the flame, and waited for it to catch fire.

He dropped the lighter top back over the flame, snuffing it out until a later time. "Whatever you say, Sandy."

Rachel looked at him, as she breathed in the smoke deeply. "What?" She began coughing, her body rejecting the smoke.

"Sandy, you know, from Grease? The movie. Or musical, whatever you wanna call it."

She nodded, "I didn't know you were a musical type of guy. I knew it. You're a softy at heart."

Chandler rolled his eyes, "Just making conversation."

"Well, don't, okay? I came out here to clear my mind."

Chandler raised his hands up, "Whatever."

They both sat there, breathing in their toxic fumes quietly for a few moments. But Rachel Green had never been one for any time of extended silences, especially with a full plate of things just jumbling around in her head at top speed.

"I just," she spat out, "I just can't believe him! The things he said to me! Acting like he knew exactly who I was! He doesn't know anything about me! And that Carol, I just wanna ring her neck, what is with her? What the hell have I done to her! And Ross is yelling at me for apparently acting like Miss Queen of the Universe, when his own girlfriend is all in my face about this and that after five minutes of knowing me!"

Chandler looked at her, "I thought you wanted to think. Clear your head."

"Yeah, well, not talking wasn't doing anything but attempting to give me a headache, so I decided venting was a better way to go."

He sighed, "Look, I don't know what you're talking about really, but I can assume it's about Ross, which again further proves my point that love simply can't exist in reality. Ross says he's in love with Carol, and turns her and another girl I really don't know but am currently stuck talking to into psycho-bitches."

Rachel jerked her head back, "Excuse me?"

Chandler shook his head, "Whatever. I'm out." He slammed the last bit of his smoke into the side of the wall, then turned around and walked back inside the building without another word to the Queen of the Universe.

* * *

_So, I'm glad everyone is liking this fic. It is a lot different from most of the stuff out there, and I'm glad that so many people had an open mind about it and gave this fic a try. You guys are awesome, and it's so great after I post a new chapter to look in my e-mail (yes, I do get the e-mail alert for reviews, don't judge me) and see five or six of you guys prasing me once again. It's just so awesome. _

_And I know that I used to go off on all these rants down in this section, but a couple people were like, "okay, Lindsey, we get it. We're not idiot. We know what's going on in your story" and so I stopped that and just moved it to my profile because it was never about explaing what was going on. It was more me basking in the glory of my genius. And of course, when I typed all the thoughts out I would notice things that I put in there without noticing, or draw a new conclusion, or even give myself a new idea for where to take the story. Hell, when this story first popped into my head Mon and Chan were gonna be sent to rehab after over-dosing together. Then they'd meet Phoebe, a recoveringherion addict, and her boyfriend, Joey, and his family. _

_Kinda veered away from that course of action a little, huh? lol. But that's the great thing about writing stories, you can start out with this really plain, base idea for where you want to the story to go, give the characers a little dash of personality and then they take you the rest of the way. All I do is sit at my computer and think how this character would react to a certain situation and type. _

_Alright, I'm rambling now. Thank you again for all the reviews. lol. Next fic, we'll go for two hundred! Hell, I'll even take two hundred on this fic, I'm not picky!_

**_Updates up ASAP.  
Please Review._**


	15. Poor Man's Rachel Green

_Sorry this has taken me so long to get up. My brain has just been all over the place recently, but I'm back! And this fic is starting to rap up a little here. I know I've been saying that Mondler was center stage and Ross and Rachel were subplot, but I've recently realized I've spent roughly the same time developing both relationships and now I'm throwing some Joey and Phoebe into the mix. But, as much of you probably have expirenced at one point or another, when you write a story a lot of the time you start out with this clear picture in your head of what it's gonna be like, then the characters just take you somewhere compeltely different. Like you started for Hawaii but ended up in the North Pole kind of different. _

_But, this fic is slowly ending, and will probably be wrapped up within the next few chapters. Sorry again for the delays. _

_Thanks again for all the reivews and support. I know I usually type all your names out and stuff, but I'm being lazy right now and I'll get around to it within the next chappy. Promise. Pinky swear._

_Enjoy._

* * *

Chandler sauntered back into the hospital, not really giving much of a shit about anything or anyone at this point. If the nurses were gonna reprimand him for flicking one of their own off, so be it. If Ross was gonna kill him for leaving him and the two objects of his desire, although Chandler's father had always told him that woman were people not objects. 

But then again, he'd never really listened too much to his old man anyways. Why start now? And like they've always said: old habits die hard. What's a guy to do?

But, he made it down the hallway without so much as a 'hello' from one of the nurses. Probably trying to ice him out or something. He didn't really care. It was just one less annoying 'medical opinion' he had to listen to.

With no sign of any of his quote 'gang', he decided now was probably a good time to visit Monica. No doubt she'd try and hit him up for smokes, might as well do it when nobody's around. He would have waited until later that night, but why pass up a perfectly good opportunity?

And besides, Rachel would probably be back later demanding more now that she had accepted the little tobacco monkey to be placed on her back for all of time. For therapeutic reasons.

He felt his lips curl into a small smirk despite his best efforts to appear emotionless as he opened the door and slipped into Monica's room.

It was dark, Monica must have had them turn off the lights for her when she kicked them out earlier. At least he was assuming she kicked them out, it made sense that she would. Rachel wasn't exactly on her Christmas list, Carol might just be a little too bubbly for her, and Ross was her brother so that must be reason enough to not want him around.

But he knew she wasn't asleep.

"Hey you," Chandler announced himself, "You're supplier has arrived with a nearly full carton of toxic, and insanely addicting goodness in a stick."

Monica rolled over in her bed, "If you're shitting with me I have no problem getting out of this bed and kicking your ass. And don't discount me because of my size, I'm freakishly strong. As anyone," she smirked back at him.

Chandler reached in his pockets and pulled out his pack of smokes, "Here, proof that I'm not just shitting with you for the hell of it." He pulled out two cigarettes, placing one in his mouth, and tossing another one on her bed. "Is there a smoke alarm in here?"

Monica shook her head, "Just open that window and don't sit directly under it and we should be fine," she instructed, "And by the way, Sherlock, it's directly over your head."

"My, my, always the people person," he said flatly before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. He took a long drag of it, then pulled it out and exhaled, "Here," he tossed the lighter on to her bed.

"Again, you are quite the gentleman, Mr. Bing."

"It's not like I had any actual male figures to look up to while I was growing up. They were all, well, shall we say rather feminine."

Monica lit her cigarette, taking in an even longer drag, then exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "I needed that, you have no idea how long I've been wanting one. I think I had a dream about a cigarette. It attacked the hospital," she smiled wickedly, "It was a very good dream."

"Sounds like it."

"So, Chandler, what brings you to my room this time of day?"

"You're the people reader, you tell me."

"Smart ass," Monica rolled her eyes. "So, I noticed that Ross, Rachel, and the famed Carol are all here together. How's Ross taking that?"

Chandler smiled faintly, "Interesting turn of events. I think this Rachel girl thinks she's in love with Ross. She was just outside with me being all huffy and puffy about him."

Monica just rolled her eyes, "Sounds like typical Rachel Green behavior to me." She took another long drag, "So, have you heard anything about my length of stay here?"

"What? Not liking your accommodations? I could try to get you moved to the President's Suite, but I'm pretty sure that's taken."

"Are you sure? Cause this just seems terrible that they'd stick _me _in a room like this. I mean, this is where the regular sick people stay. I'm way above that by now."

"Well, I might've heard something."

"Anything worth sharing?"

"Mostly it was the doctor's _medical opinion_, but you probably know all about that by now, don't you?"

"I might've figured a few things out. The doctor was easy to figure out. Not a very good liar that one. He might have even been a worse lair then Ross."

"Woah, that's a pretty bold statement, Miss Geller. Are you sure you can back that up?"

"Just watch Ross try to deny the fact that he's got a thing for Rachel. That my friends, is all the proof I'm ever going to need."

Chandler smirked a little, "No shit," he mumbled in agreement.

"Almost makes me feel bad for that Carol girl."

"Carol's just," he paused, collecting his words, "She's just—optimistic."

"Like a walking ball of sunshine, optimistic?"

Chandler shrugged, "Some days. Others not so much. She may be optimistic, but at the same time has this firm grip on what the reality of the situation is, y'know?"

"You just contradicted yourself. A person can't be a realist and an optimist at the same time."

"Then you apparently have not spent time with Carol," Monica just gave him a look. Chandler sighed, "She knows the reality of the situation, and no matter how much of a lost cause it is, part of her still believes that something good will come out of it."

"Sounds like a load of bullshit to me," she snorted, "Not everybody's life is all sunshine and rainbows. Hell, take you for example."

Chandler smirked, "Your hilarious, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Why yes, but it's just never enough. Say it again, Chandler. I do believe I am worthy of such high praise from the master himself."

"Cute," his smirk grew a little.

Monica smiled, "Well I thought so."

* * *

Ross ran down the hallway after Carol, just following whisp of blonde hair after whisp of blonde hair. He knew she was upset. He did his best to ignore it for awhile, usually these things just passed through after a little while. But she was really pissed this time.

Hopefully not irreversibly so.

"Carol! Wait!" He finally yelled out, hoping that the fact that he couldn't catch her wasn't because she didn't want to be caught, but really because she didn't know he was back there.

"I don't want to hear it, Ross," Carol spat back at him, quickening her pace a little.

Apparently it was the latter of the two possibilities.

"I don't get what your problem is!" He shot back at her. He was sick of holding his tongue.

Carol stopped in her tracks. "What?" She asked slowly, as she turned back around to face him, "My problem?" Apparently he'd struck a nerve with that one.

"Yea. Your problem," he repeated.

"Ross! My problem is that you're obviously in love with another woman! Who, by the way, you practically shoved in my face singing 'na, na, na, na, na, na'!"

Ross jerked his head back, "What? No! I don't love Rachel! I love you!"

"That's bullshit, Ross!" Carol yelled at him, gaining a few looks from bystanders, "I don't want to do this anymore." She choked out a bit more softly, lowering her head down.

Ross took another hesitant step towards her, "What? No. That's crazy. We love each other," he placed his hands on her hips, and attempted to look her in the eye, but she refused. "I wanna marry you, Carol. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Carol shook her head, "No I'm not," she said with an almost laugh. She turned her head back up to face him, "I really do love you, Ross. It's just—I," she sighed, "I'm just your poor man's version of Rachel Green."

"No, Carol—don't, don't do this," he mumbled out, "You're not. I love you."

Carol shook her head, "No you don't," she stated simply. She pushed his hands off her hips, and started walking backwards away from him, "See ya around, Ross." She offered a weak smile, before turning back around and disappearing into the crowd.

And as much as he wanted to run after her, he couldn't get his legs to corporate. Maybe Chandler had been right. Maybe love wasn't real.

Maybe it was only pain.

* * *

**_Updates up soon.  
Please Review._**


	16. Loose Ends

_Sorry these chapters are getting shorter and choppier. I'm just trying to tie up the little odds and ends I've shoved into this fic. But agian, it's winding down, I promise! lol. I probably see about two or three more chapters left it in max. _

_Alright, big thanks go out to: **Dreem, SaMm, Luthien, MCEJBing, Melanie Geller, LucyGoose, Mcb, **and **Fashion Hottie.**_

* * *

Carol walked numbly through the building. Right past the Italian man she talked to earlier, whose head was still pressed up against the window, feeling a little pang of jealously towards that relationship. That amount of devotion. That was something that she knew she would never have with Ross. He was supposed to be just a little fling, help her get over her ex and him (although he'd never admit it) get over another mystery girl, whom she now assumed was the one and only Rachel Green. She really didn't know how it got to be so serious.

One second it seemed like they were just having fun. Living in the moment. The next thing she knew, she was in love with him. And she thought that he loved her too. That she had all of him. But she only got a little piece. Rachel was probably about the only girl whom he'd give his whole heart to, and she didn't seem to have a clue towards that.

She pushed her way through the front door, without the slightest idea of what her next step should be in her master plan. She had to get her stuff back from the Gellers, that was step one. Step two was finding a way either back to the campus or back to her parents, both seemed equally undesirable at the moment, but she had no other options other then staying there and feeling like she was having this knife just shoved into her back by Ross as he tip-toed around his infatuation with Rachel Green.

"Where are you going?"

Carol stopped dead in her tracks. She could have recognized that voice a mile away while having heavy metal blasted into her ears.

She turned around slowly to see non-other then the girl of the moment: Rachel Green, leaning against one of the walls outside huffing angrily on (what she presumed to be) one of Chandler's cigarettes.

"He's yours now," Carol muttered out angrily, "Just go right inside. Hell, he'll probably be out here in a about a half hour lookin' for you, assuming that I have left the place."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel asked, "Did you and Ross break-up or something?"

"No," she deadpanned, "I've just decided that monogamy is for losers."

Rachel put out her smoke on the wall, "Why are you so mad at me! I've done nothing to you, and you've been this little twit to me the entire time I've been with you!"

"What have I done to you!" Carol shouted back at her, "You're the girl that wants to jump my boyfriend, and my boyfriend has wanted to jump for years, how am I supposed to react! Am I just supposed to throw a blind eye to it and pretend like everything's okay? Am I supposed to act like I don't care? That it doesn't bother me? What!"

"I don't want to jump your boyfriend," Rachel mumbled out softly. "He's Ross. I'm Rachel. There are so many things wrong with that."

"Let's take a look at Shakespeare, shall we? Remember a little family named the Capulets and the family they hated, the Montagues? Funnily enough, Romeo and Juliet managed to hook-up even with warring families."

"You've lost it," Rachel tried to act nonchalant. "You've totally and completely lost it. I don't want to jump Ross. And it's not my fault if he has feelings for me, so I don't understand why you're so pissed at me and not your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Forgive me, ex-boyfriend."

Carol sighed, "Look, just do us all a favor and drop this whole Miss Popular act, alright? You obviously care about Ross and he sure as hell cares about you, and I'm no longer in the picture. Just go for it, all right."

"What?"

She shook her head, "Stop pretending, would ya?"

"I'm not pretending," Rachel muttered out stubbornly.

Carol let out another long sigh, "You know what, whatever. I don't know why I'm even bothering with this," she held her hand up in an awkward sort-of wave, "See ya around, Rachel Green," she murmured before walking off.

* * *

Joey hadn't moved in over an hour, neither had Phoebe for that matter. He just couldn't figure out a way to make his body turn, move his legs back and forth, and find somewhere else to be. His head just wasn't in it.

In fact, his head really wasn't in this hospital for that matter.

He hadn't thought about his family in a long time. He was so happy, so content to be with Phoebe. That was enough for him. And it never occurred to him once in his penniless existence that his family might be suffering because of his absence. He had always thought of himself as a sort of nuisance to the family. He didn't want in the family business, and he let his parents know early and often. He thought that his leaving wouldn't effect his parents beyond the point of losing their bickering partner.

He thought they would be happier.

And Phoebe was so happy before all this shit started in. Before her mom died. Before Ursula handed her the drugs as an outlet. Before they'd run off together to make it big. They'd leave all their problems behind.

They'd be happy again.

This whole thing started because of happiness (or lack there of). Now they were just a complete and utter mess trying to take care of another complete and utter mess. And not doing too well at it, for that matter. He didn't remember how or when it really started, but somehow, they just ended up making things worse then anything else. But they had fallen down that spiral so quickly, that it just never had time to register with either of them. At least until they reached the bottom.

But he knew what he had to do. He knew it twenty minutes ago, but was having trouble accepting it until about fifteen minutes ago, and for the last five minutes or so had been figuring out exactly what to say to achieve such a goal.

He wiped away a stray tear, "I'm gonna fix this, Pheebs," he whispered into the window, "Don't worry. I'm gonna take care of you. For real this time. Promise."

Part of him waited for some kind of answer, but the sensible part of him knew it wasn't coming. After a few moments, he turned and made his way down the hallway towards the line of payphones just feet away from his original position.

He dug around in his pockets for any loose change, and after a few moments produced a few coins and some lint. He took a deep breath, and steadied himself.

He could do this. He could. He could take care of her. And this was the only way to do it. He could do this.

On the exhale, he pushed fifty cents into the machine, picked up the receiver, and dialed the familiar digits. All the while, trying to remind himself to breath.

After a few rings she picked up, "Hello?"

He felt a somber smile take over his features. It was good to hear her voice. "Ma?" He asked softly, "Ma, it's me, Joey."

"Joseph?"

He felt a huge lump develop in his throat, "Yea. It's me, Ma."

"Where are you? Are you okay? Why haven't you called! Where have you been!" She was frantic on the other end, a combination of happiness, anger, sadness, and worrying in her voice.

Joey wiped away a few more tears, "I love you, Ma. Pop too." He continued to avoid the reason for the call. It just felt right to say that. He needed to get that out. Needed them to know.

"Joseph,"

"I screwed up big, Ma. Real big. I thought I could take care of her. But we need help, Ma, me and Phoebe. Real bad."

"Do you need money?"

Joey shook his head, "No, no, I'm sick, Ma. I need help," he stopped, "We need help," he corrected himself. "I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend everything's okay! Not while she's in here!"

"Where are you?"

"We're in the hospital, Ma. I just need, I need," he breathed deeply, "I need help."

"Why'd you call here?"

"Because I knew you could help us. Because I miss you. Because everything is so fucked up, and here is the last place I remember anything ever making sense!"

"Shh, shh, calm down, calm down," she said softly, "We'll come to you. Don't worry. Everything will be okay. Phoebe will be okay."

"Just," he breathed out, "Just get here soon."

* * *

Chandler watched as Monica idly pushed around her food on the lunch tray the hospital staff had brought her a little while ago. He couldn't help but notice. Especially after what that doctor said. How could he not?

And she'd been pushing that food around on her tray for a good fifteen, twenty minutes. Never eating anything. And the way she looked at the food. Like it was her mortal enemy.

"Not hungry?" Chandler prompted. She'd been through a lot today. He was probably just over-reacting, that's all.

She shrugged, "Whatda mean?"

"You haven't eaten anything."

"What, have you taken up stalker-like tendencies in the past couple of hours?"

Chandler shook his head, "Don't avoid the question. That's my game."

"I'm not avoiding the question," Monica shot back.

"Well you haven't eaten anything all day. It just seems strange that you're not hungry at all right now. Most people are."

"Well I'm not most people. We've established this."

"Monica,"

She shot him a look, "Don't," she warned sourly.

"Don't what?"

"Don't do that. I know where you're going with this and don't go there."

Chandler shrugged, "I thought you weren't a physic."

Monica rolled her eyes, "A blind person could see where you were going with that line of questioning. And a little word of advice: you would not make a good undercover agent, or detective or that matter. You're so obvious."

"Stop avoiding my questions."

"I don't have anything to avoid," Monica set down her fork calmly, giving Chandler that 'fuck you' look that she had seemed to have perfected over the years just for moments like these.

"Then answer my questions, would you?"

"I don't see where any of this if your business. You keep me in the goods. You're good for a couple of laughs. That's all you are to me."

"Attachments just slow you down, huh?"

Monica shot him another look, "What's your problem?"

"We've been through that, remember? We were out in the cold, and you analyzed what you thought I am like and why I am like that, which by the way is still complete bullshit."

"How was the meeting of the children of bad divorces, anyways? I forgot to ask."

"Fuck off," Chandler mumbled as he turned around and walked out of her hospital room without another word. If she didn't want to admit it, what was it to him? She didn't mean anything.

Chandler closed the door roughly behind him.

She meant nothing.

* * *

_Alright, so I've offically finished with the Ross/Rach/Carol triangle, doubt I'll go much further into the Ross/Rach love story angle (again, I just think it's too soon for thier characters), but sometimes I surprise myself. The Joey/Phoebe storyline is pretty much finished. So that leaves the Mon/Chan storyline comming back to center stage. _

_Now, with the exception of Carol, all the other characters are bound to make apperances, but I'll probably be following Chandler around most of the time. But again, I can surprise myself. You never know. Anyways, almost finished! _

_**Updates up ASAP.  
Please Review. **_


	17. Parents

_I'm back. _

_Thanks again for all of the support and the reviews. You guys are great. _

_

* * *

_

Judy Geller walked up the now quiet and empty stairs of her home a little more slowly then usual. For some reason, reaching the top of the stairs didn't seem all too important at the time. Not that it ever really was the first thing on her mind when she was walking up the stairs, but quickness was generally associated with the task.

Her eyes were trained on her daughter's bedroom door. Thinking back on it, that's what she had always seen for the past year. The closed door. And for some reason, that had never stuck her as odd.

Monica was a neat and orderly person, she didn't have to worry about her trashing the place. And she hoped she would have noticed if Monica was involved in some sort of illegal smuggling ring and her gang was using her bedroom as their home base.

No, that was crazy. She knew her daughter. That doctor was just jumping to conclusions that's all. That's what they all do, anyways. Worst-case scenarios. That way, they always come off as the miracle-worker they dreamed of being or what happened was what the family was already preparing for.

Monica couldn't have had an eating disorder. She would have noticed. She was her mother after all. And a damn good one at that.

She would have noticed.

Her foot lifted up the last step almost involuntarily, then she stopped for a moment, bracing herself against the walls like if she let them go her home would come crashing down around her. She stared intently ahead at Monica's doorway.

She inhaled quickly, before trudging slowly to Monica's bedroom, never taking her eyes off the target. Once she made it there, she squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed open the door as wide as it could, hearing the loud resounding bang of it on the wall from her force.

"One," she counted to herself, "Two," she breathed in deeply, "There," she opened her eyes.

This was not her beautiful daughter's room. She had to have the wrong house. Monica's room should be full of life. This, this was death.

The once plastered with various posters walls, had been left plain and barren, with only a few remnants of what looked like her old posters from where she had torn them. Her bed was a mess, lined with empty bottles in varying sizes. Her floor was lined with magazine picture after magazine picture of skinny, heroin-addicted models, accompanied only by empty pills bottles and a few empty beer bottles.

She couldn't believe her eyes. This couldn't be right. She would have noticed. She should have noticed. And with a panicked voice she yelled, "Jack!"

* * *

Connie Tribbiani bolted through the doors of the hospital a woman on a mission. Whether she chose to accept the mission or not was still up for debate, but she was here and that was half the battle. 

She'd gotten in and out of her car three times before finally turning it on. Then it was four times turning the car off, then back on again a few seconds later. Her mind raced with memories, thoughts, anger, love, and above all else a motherly instinct. The latter of which did eventually win over the rest and got her this far.

But after this point, she hadn't really made up her mind. He was her son, always would be, not even God could change that, but he had so effortlessly left them. Made a point to say he didn't need them. That he could make it on his own. And look what good that did him. It took all the motherly side of her to stop her from saying a gigantic 'fuck you' when he called only hours before. It's what he deserved really. Let him know what it feels like to be left high and dry for once.

But something in his voice had triggered that motherly side of her to come out the strongest. She had never heard him talk like that before. He sounded so,

small.

And Joey Tribbiani had been anything but small growing up. He was the center of attention by nature, but made himself the ultimate, all-time center of attention by personality. Thinking back on it, he had never really asked for help in his life. He was stupidly stubborn in that way. Even as a kid.

She hadn't broken the news to her family that Joey had called. They probably would have just said good riddance. His leaving is what had caused their family's ultimate demise. But she had always hated blaming all of it on Joey. After all, the true cause was really a small rift between father and son that just kept growing and growing. And when Joey finally had enough, and did what any person would probably do, and left, suddenly Joseph Sr. had trouble functioning without the rift. It had become so much apart of his life that now that it was completely gone away, he didn't know what to do.

Hell, she hadn't come out of her room for a few days after it happened. She'd lost her only son. Upon later inspection, though, she realized her wallowing hadn't been for losing her son. She'd lost him way before he left. She wallowed because she hadn't noticed.

"Excuse me, m'am," a petite nurse broke her chain of thought, "Are you looking for someone?"

Connie nodded, "Yea, yea. I think so."

"Are you all right?"

"Relatively so. I don't need medical attention, if that's what you mean."

"Then what is the name of the patient you're looking for? I'll need it to locate the room number for you."

"I'm looking for my son. He called me earlier. His girlfriend is emitted, though. Joey Tribbiani and Phoebe Buffay. At least that's what it should be. They might have changed it for all I know."

"Mr. Tribbiani?" The nurse asked in recognition, "He has family?"

Connie nodded, biting down on her lip to stop any tears from falling, "Yes, of course he does. I'm his mother. He has a father and seven sisters. Of course he has a family."

"Oh. And Miss Buffay, does she have any family? Besides a sister."

"I think she only hasthat sister left now. Poor girl went through a lot," she paused, "Do you know them? Where are they?"

The nurse nodded, "They're here a lot. Overdoses, mainly. Poor kids. They really fell hard." She stuck out her hand, "I'm Sherry, by the way. I usually take care of them in the clinics, but we ran out of beds so I had to move Miss Buffay today into one of the regular rooms."

The two women shook hands, Connie still coming to grips with what had happened to her son, and Sherry just trying to find a way to explain everything to her.

"They're sweet kids. Mean well."

"Overdoses? On drugs?"

Sherry's eyes softened, "It happens. A lot of kids can get mixed up in that stuff so easily here. Breaks my heart, really."

"He called me. He said he needed help."

Sherry's mouth broke into a soft smile, "That's good. A step in the right direction for the two of them, they should be back on track in no time."

"What?"

"I think he's finally accepted that he has a problem. Took him long enough. Stubborn kid. Kept saying he could take care of Miss Buffay. Insisted on it really."

Connie gave a somber, but knowing smile, "Always has been that way. Since the cradle."

"You should push for rehab. It would do them both wonders."

"Oh. Rehab?"

Sherry nodded, "Yeah. Been suggesting it for months now. I think he's finally accepted it though, he just might need a little push in the right direction, y'know?"

"I'm sorry, accepted?"

"That he has a problem. That he and Miss Buffay need help."

Connie listened as Sherry went on to talk about how her son and his girlfriend needed help, and it was so good of them to finally be reaching for said help, and about what they'd gone through, who they were, so on and so forth. And she couldn't help but feel a tad strain of jealously towards the woman. This nurse knew her son better then she did.

Better then she ever would.

With a strained sigh she said, "Can you just point the way to Joey for me?" Without waiting for the nurse to finish whatever it was that she was saying.

The nurse nodded somberly, "Yes, yes, I'm sorry. Miss Buffay is in room fourteen. Just down the hall and to the right. He's right outside of it."

"Outside?"

"Miss Buffay's sister did not grant him permission to see and or speak with Miss Buffay. So he's standing outside of her window until she wakes up, and she can give him permission."

"Ursula?" She said the name with almost a disgust about it, "You let that slut in here! Near Phoebe for god's sake!"

"She's family, m'am. It's policy."

"It's dangerous, that's what it is," Connie mumbled. "Thank-you for you help, but I need to find my son," then looked sternly at Sherry, "On my own." She didn't need the nurse interfering. She had to make up her own mind if she wanted to see him or not.

He had left them after all.

Why should she have to take him back?

The nurse nodded sternly, apparently finally catching on to Connie's internal debate, "Sure thing, m'am. If you need anything, just stop by the nurses' station. We'll be happy to help."

Connie nodded, and turned back to face the long hallway. Then she saw him. The lone figure outside of a window, staring in miserably. She felt a lump begin to form in her throat.

He turned, for whatever reason, and looked in her direction. Their eyes locked. And for a long while they just stood at a distance, staring. No one really wanting to be the one to make the first move.

And as the lump in her throat grew, her decision became instantly clear. He was her son. And she loved him. No matter what he did. She loved that kid with every fiber in her being.

"Joey," she whispered softly to herself, as she began heading down the hallway towards her son. Joey began moving towards her the second her foot had left the ground. And within a matter of seconds he was back in her arms again.

"I screwed up, Ma," he cried, "I screwed up real bad."

She rubbed his back, "Hush," she whispered to him, "We'll fix you two. Don't worry. Everything gonna be okay. I promise."

"I love you, Ma," he finally mumbled out through his tears. "I really do. Pop too. Everyone. I love all of you guys. I miss you. I wanted to go home. Real bad."

"I love you too," she whispered back.

* * *

_This should end the Joey/Phoebe storyline. Hope you guys enjoyed. _

_Updates up ASAP.  
Please Review._


	18. Denial among other Emotions

_I'm back! (For now anyways. And I know I keep saying that this will wrap up soon, and it will! Monica and Chandler will have their day in the sun!) _

**_Thanks for all the reivews. I'll make sure to get shout-outs to you all sooner or later, but currently I do not have the time to sift through them all. _**

* * *

Judy Geller stomped into the hospital, guns at the ready. In one hand she held the empty pill bottle she found in her daughter's bedroom and in the other she dragged her somewhat clueless husband, still asking stupid questions. She may have tolerated it most of the time, even at times found it cute, maybe even endearing, but not today. Today it would be a hindrance.

She pounded her fist down on the table, "I need to see the doctor that was treating my daughter!" She yelled, not even bothering to wait for one of the nurses to come over to her first.

One of the nurses, a plump, middle-aged woman with faded reddish-blonde hair smiled brightly at her, "Well, just calm down there a second, m'am, and we'll get right on it!" She chirped happily, "Now what was the name of the doctor that was treating your daughter?"

Judy looked at the woman, "If I remembered that you don't you think I would have already mentioned it?"

"Well, then what is your daughter's name?"

"Monica Geller. That's G-E-L-L-E-R."

The plump nurse typed in the name on their computer, "Ah! Here we go!" She chirped again, "Doctor Watts was treating your daughter. A young guy, blonde hair, great smile."

"Watts? And where is he now?"

"Do you have a question about your daughter's case? I see here that she's being treated for dehydration, and he made a note of possible anorexia nervosa," she paused, "Oh, dear me, anorexia? That must be awful. How are you feeling?"

Judy glared at the woman. She had never glared at anyone in her life. "How the hell do you think I feel! I just found out today that my daughter, _my daughter_, is being treated for anorexia! And apparently it was _so_ incredibly obvious to everyone else in the god damn world expect for me!" She screamed at the woman, "I'm having a pretty damn good day today, wouldn't you say? Hell, a damn good holiday! Merry Christmas to me!"

Jack rested his hand on his wife's shoulder, "Judy, calm down. It'll be okay. Just calm down."

She turned around to face him, "Don't you tell me to calm down!"

"Jude," he whispered to her. He never called her that. Ever.

"Don't," she warned harshly, "Tell me to calm down. You're daughter, your precious little harmonica is in the hospital. Do you not understand that! And we didn't notice anything was wrong! She's our daughter! Our seventeen year old daughter, dammit! We should have known!"

"Mrs. Geller," the nurse offered again.

"Forget it," Judy sighed angrily as she stormed down the hallway in the direction of Monica's room.

"Judy, come back here a second," Jack began to follow after her like a lost puppy. Another trait she could do without at this moment. She had come to terms a long time ago that she'd married an idiot, but he was a cute idiot in his own way.

"Leave me alone, Jack," she said harshly as she continued her walk. She was going to get to the bottom of this. No kiss-ass doctor was going to tell her lies and reassure her that everything was okay. No. Monica was the source. Monica would know the truth. And only Monica.

Somehow, she found herself standing outside a closed door again.

And this time, she couldn't lie to herself.

She knew what was behind it.

She inched slowly backwards, until she felt the chair on the back of her thigh, then she sat down. Her eyes never left Monica's door. Not for a second.

"It's hard, ain't it?"

Judy turned to face the voice, "What?"

The Italian woman shrugged, "Having a kid in the hospital, it's hard. Granted I've known a whole fifteen minutes that my kid was here, but it's still pretty damn hard."

Judy nodded, "How'd you know that's my daughter in there?"

"Well I didn't know the sex, but I knew from the look on your face that it had to be a kid of yours," she sighed, "Its hard when they grow up. Suddenly they don't have to tell you everything, and you don't worry about it, then the next second you don't know the first damn thing about them, and you don't remember how you got from one second to the next."

"So, is it your son or daughter in the hospital?"

"Son's girlfriend to be specific," she let out a defeated chuckle, "But my son will be joining her shortly. Not at this hospital. But at rehab. I just signed my son and his girlfriend up for drug rehab," She shook her head, "God, never thought I'd ever do that."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad to finally know where he is. At least now I'll be able to keep tabs on him," she paused, "For a little while anyways."

"I'm sorry. That must be horrible."

"You get used to it."

"I can't face my own daughter," Judy blurted out.

The Italian woman just smiled, and patted Judy's knee, "We've all been there. Just thank God you know where she is."

Judy stared off towards Monica's door again, "The thing is, I don't think I do anymore."

* * *

Joey studied himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked old for a twenty-something. It wasn't like he was horribly wrinkled or something, he just had that sort of lackluster element about him. His eyes were dull. Unlike his starry-eyed peers, who had their whole lives to ruin, he had been there, done it, and was now in that in between time. Like when you're in between jobs. You sort of get that hopelessness about yourself in your eyes.

That's what they were right now. In between jobs.

He heard the bathroom door swing open, and the nurse enemy number one walked in. He couldn't remember the guy's name, he might not have even given it for all he was concerned.

"You moved," he stated blankly.

Joey shrugged, "Had too. Was fogging up the window."

He moved over towards the sink, forgoing eye contact in favor of washing his hands, "Is she awake?" He asked, mid-scrub.

Joey shook his head, "No, not yet. She should wake up soon, though. Then I can see her."

"Why wait for so long?"

"Because," Joey smiled, "I love her."

He rolled his eyes, "Yea, I think you said that all ready."

"What's with you, man?"

"Nothing, I just hate this notion that people keep throwing around. Ross does it nonstop, my parents did it right up until they day they got divorced, for what reasons I'll never understand. I just wish people would stop lying to each other like that."

"I'm not lying."

He gave a little snort, "Keep telling yourself that." He turned off the water and turned to grab a paper towel from the machine. But he still kept his eyes away.

Joey gave the guy a once-over, he didn't look to grand himself. He carried himself in such an angry manner, but at the same time had a sort of coolness about his character. It seemed like a contradiction in itself, but it was true.

Joey took a breath, "If you truly believe that, then why are you still here?"

He jerked his head back a little, "What?" He slowly turned to face him, however still avoiding direct eye contact.

"Waiting for that girl. Why are you still here waiting for her? I don't see any difference between the two of us, expect location. You waited in a chair and I waited next to the window."

He shrugged it off, "She's my best friends little sister."

"So, you don't care! Why are you still here?"

He made eye contact for the first time, "I'm here for my friend."

Liar.

"Funny. I've always seen you by yourself. It must be pretty amazing ability, to comfort someone who isn't even near you."

"So, Ross was pretty busy with his little love triangle he had going on. I didn't want to get in the middle."

Joey gave a smug smile, "You're forgetting that I was there when you came out of her room." Hook. Line. Sinker.

He knew he was caught.

Joey's smile grew, "Ah-ha. So, why continue with the lie? Just admit you have feelings for the girl and move on. It's not the end of the world you know."

His eyes fell to his shoes, "What isn't?"

"Falling in love."

He gave an amused look, darting his face back up in an act of defiance. But that's all it was. An act, "You're shitting me, right?" He forced a laugh, "What? Am I on some fucking hidden camera show or something?"

Joey shook his head, "No, man."

"Well then you're just crazy or somethin' man."

"Nope, perfectly sane to my knowledge."

"Well crazy people think their normal."

Joey shook his head, "Whatever, man."

* * *

Phoebe Buffay opened her eyes with a jump. She looked around the white, stark room. This was different. She had never been here before. She could hear a dull beeping to her side. Good. She wasn't lost. She couldn't be lost. Joey would be here. Joey always came for her. Joey would never leave her.

Not Joey.

She looked over at the window intently, there was a lot of movement outside. Something had happened. Her eyes struggled to focus. Was he out there? Did he not see she was awake? Why wasn't he by her bedside? Where was he?

He walked right through the middle of the panic with a serene expression on his face. She smiled back at him. She knew he'd never leave her.

He walked into her room, "Hey Pheebs," he smiled as he made his way over to her bedside. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, and wrapped his hand around hers.

"Hey you," she croaked out.

Joey placed his free hand on her face, tracing her delicate features slowly, "I wanted to be here. When you got up. But they wouldn't let me in. Not until you woke up, they said."

"It's okay. It's all better. You're here now."

He nodded slowly, "I want you to know something, Pheebs."

"What?"

"I'm gonna take care of you. We're gonna get better. I can do this. I can take care of you, dammit," he squeezed her hand a little tighter, "We ain't gonna live like this no more, all right? We're gonna get better."

She swallowed. Hard. She was never one for crying in public. "Joey," she whispered, "You've always taken care of me."

He shook his head, "No, I haven't. I fuckin' haven't done anything good!" A tear trickled down his cheek, "But that's all gonna change now," his voice grew hoarse, "I'm gonna fix all of this. And we're gonna buy a house. A big house. With one of 'em white picket fences, y'know. And we're gonna be happy."

She let go of her tears at the same moment he lost any sort of control of his. He scooped her up into his arms, and held her tightly.

"Dammit," he whispered, "I love you, Pheebs. Marry me."

Phoebe let out a happy sob, "I love you too, Joey. And I want that house. That stupid fence. I wanna be a soccer mom!" She mumbled out in between tears, not even sure if he could even understand her. "I wanna be your wife."

* * *

**_Please Review.  
Updates up as soon as humanly (or perhaps Anwa-ly) possible._**


	19. Nothing

_Hey, did you hear? Did you hear? Anwa actually wrote something! What? No way! So amazing! I gotta call my grandma! _

_(End of strange ramblings...I've been spending too much time writing scripts...)_

_All right, so, come one, come all, to another chapter of my FRIENDS SAGA. And yes, I did feel the need to capitalize that. When will another one be up, one might ask? No f-ing clue. _

_**To all that reviewed, thank-you. **It has been a little while (heh, heh), and people kind of reviewed at different places so I really don't know just who reviewed for this chapter and who didn't, so you're gonna kinda have to bask in nameless glory for now. Sorry! (For reals! I've always done the shout-out thing, so I feel really bad not doing it!!)_

* * *

Monica slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. Chandler was just some guy. He wasn't anyone special. He was Ross' roommate, twenty-one, and had an endless supply of cigs for her. That was it. He didn't mean anything to her.

Nothing.

She felt her breathing grow more shallow. Her head felt soft. Her vision blurred. But all she could think of was him. She couldn't get him out of her mind.

It had to have been because he was just here. That's it. She'd be thinking about Rachel if Rachel had just come in the room and talked with her. That must be it. Because he didn't mean anything to her.

And she didn't mean anything to him.

She felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster. She tried to gasp for air and slow the breathing down, but it was like she was drowning.

Monitors beeped wildly around her. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone. But no one was there. For the first time she was utterly alone. And the funny thing was that she hated it.

Then the doors burst open, and a furry of white coats ran in. She could make out the figure of her mother in the doorframe, then what looked like Ross holding her back, and her Father just looking lost, but no Chandler.

_See_, she thought to herself, _he doesn't care about you_.

She could hear the doctors yelling directions at each other. But her eyes remained fixed on the door.

More yelling.

The yelling became softer and softer, and she began to feel numb. Her eyes remained fixed on the door, but she couldn't make out the figures anymore. Now all she saw was a white light.

Then nothing.

* * *

Chandler continued his stroll through the hospital with no actual destination in mind. He considered leaving the hospital entirely, but he didn't know where he would go. His mother was off somewhere in Paris with some guy reminiscent of Fabio, and his father would be off ringing in the holidays with totally different man reminiscent of Fabio in his New York City penthouse.

Neither wanted to see him. Neither cared.

He wandered down into the main lobby. Carolers stood near the nurses' station, singing "The Twelve Days of Christmas" to an appreciative crowd.

Idiots. All of them.

His eyes scanned the lobby for anything interesting, when he saw a familiar blonde sitting, pouting in a chair near the door. With a slight smirk, he crossed over to her, and took a seat in the chair next to her. Apparently her icy glare had deterred all others from sitting there.

"Would have thought you would be making out in a corner with Ross or somethin'," Chandler mused, "Or were all the corners occupied?"

Carol's eyes welled out a little, and she crossed her arms, "Would you just go away, Chandler. I don't need your crap right now."

"What's up? You and Rossy-poo having a little trouble in paradise?" His smile grew a little, "Here I thought with all the love you too shared you could never be mad at each other."

"Just shut up, Chandler."

"Ah, come on, Carol."

"No, Chandler."

"What? Did that pack of girls finally show up and chase him?"

Her eyes welled up even more, "We broke up, Chandler!" She yelled at him, "We fucking broke up because he's in love with that fucking Rachel girl!"

The room went silent. All eyes where on them.

Chandler's smile dropped a little, "Oh, I didn't know, Carol." He mustered out. This is why love couldn't be real. Carol thought she was in love and look at where she ended up.

"Miss, could you please lower your voice and use appropriate language?" A nurse asked Carol, "There are children here."

Carol wiped her eyes and attempted to regain her composure, "Yes, m'am, sorry, m'am, it won't happen again." She began fumbling with a crumpled up piece of paper in her lap.

Chandler inwardly sighed, he knew the signs just as well as Ross did. She didn't need Chandler. She needed someone to be sympathetic. He softened his face a little, in a feeble attempt to somehow make her forget the fact that he was Chandler Bing, King of the uncomfortable moment.

He looked her in the eye, "You going home then?"

"I want too."

"But?"

"It's Christmas Eve, Chandler. There aren't any cabs."

"I could drive you."

"Where? I can't go home like this. I left my family because I was so much in love that I couldn't stand to be away from Ross for the holidays," her eyes began welling up again, "God, I'm such an idiot!"

Chandler wrapped an arm around her, "No you're not, Carol." He didn't know why he was saying it. It was lie. They both knew it.

But he just hated seeing her like this. She didn't deserve this. But he had to remember that it was her mistake. She would have to live with the consequences.

She leaned into him, "You know, maybe you're right. Maybe there is no such thing as love. Maybe I just got wrapped up in infatuation."

He patted her back, "Maybe," he sighed as she began crying into his shoulder. Because if there was such a thing as love, she won't be crying into his shoulder. She'd be leaning into Ross'.

"And the stupid cab company is screwing me over, and my stupid family's pissed cause I just had to rush out here and see Ross, so it's not like they're gonna come and pick me up!"

"Look, Carol, I can get you back to school if you want, it's only about an hour drive from here. It's not like anyone would notice that we're gone."

She stopped fumbling. "Wouldn't Ross notice if you were gone?"

"I once passed out at a party, didn't come home for two days, he didn't even flinch. I don't think he's gonna notice if I'm gone a couple of hours?"

Carol smiled weakly and stopped fumbling with the piece of paper. But before she could answer, the sound of an alarm bell ripped through the ER.

"Jesus fucking Christ, what is that?" Chandler muffled out in the noise, "Are they just trying to get more patients or something! Fuck!"

"It's a code blue!" He heard someone yell towards him, "Means someone's crashing!"

Chandler looked to the other side of him where he saw an older man, maybe late forties or so, just sitting in a pair of scrubs calmly sipping a cup of coffee like this happened all the time. Like it was no big deal.

A parade of doctors, nurses, and machines rushed past them. They were headed towards Monica's room. He could hear panicked voices in the distance.

He gulped, "Crashing?" He asked almost innocently. It couldn't mean what he thought it meant. That was just TV talk. TV always over-dramatized things.

The man just sipped his coffee, "Dying, checking out, however you want to put it," he grumbled out and picked up a magazine, "You got it?"

Chandler's eyes unconsciously followed the rush. He followed the rush all the way towards Monica's room. He closed his eyes, hoping they'd keep running. Anywhere else. Just not there.

But they just turned and went inside.

He hated this holiday. Everything always went wrong on this holiday. He promised himself he would never put himself in a position to be hurt. But of course it would happen on this holiday.

And it would all fall apart on this holiday.

_Fuck. _

He felt Carol's hand on his knee. He didn't turn to look at her. He didn't need to see her face. He'd hundreds of those kinds of faces. He didn't need one from her.

"It's okay," she whispered, "I won't tell."

She wrapped her hand around his. He kept his gaze firmly planted on the room. Away from her. He squeezed her hand back. It was okay to be weak. As long as no one who mattered could see him, it was okay.

He could always deny it later anyways.

* * *

_You see? I told you Chandler and Monica moments were about to be happening! It just took me nearly twenty chapters to get there, but you can't rush characters! They have to get there on thier own accord. And yes, I do realize that these characters aren't actually real, so they can't exactly have thier own accord, but you get what I'm saying._

**_Updates up when they're up.  
Please Review. _**


	20. Perfection

_The finial chapter. It's been a pleasure writing this piece and exploring the dark side of writing, however, I would have never been able to write all of this without the immense support I've recieved on this piece and for that I thank each and every one of you._

_Here's to hoping the final chapter doesn't dissapoint._

_Love always. _

* * *

"What's going on?" Judy Geller yelled as the parade of nurses and doctors ran into her daughter's room, "Somebody tell us what's happening to our daughter!"

Nobody answered. Everyone just kept running. She could hear yelling in Monica's room. But nothing coherent. Nobody was talking her.

Jack just grabbed her hand.

It was the first intelligent move the man had made in sixteen years.

"What's happening, Jack?" She croaked out, "Why didn't we know? How could we not know!" Her voice grew stronger and stronger, "How could we not know something was wrong with our daughter! Our daughter!"

He put his arm around her, and held her closely. And Judy finally let go. She sobbed into Jack's shoulder, uncontrollably wheezing in and out, tears streaming without hesitation.

* * *

For the first time in his life he knew what he was doing. For the first time he felt like he was needed. He had purpose. One look down at Carol and he knew. He knew he had been wrong. Then, without thinking, his feet started to move. Slow at first, then building, building until he broke into a dead sprint down the hallway.

Nurses and doctors ran besides him, yelling orders to each other, but Chandler wasn't listening. He knew. And he had to get there. He had to tell her. He wanted his to be the first face that she saw. She had to feel the same. Had to.

* * *

Ross just stood there. His jaw dropped. His mom sat just feet from him wrapped in his father's arms. Balling. Doctors yelling. Monitor's beeping. And Ross just stood there. His feet firmly transfixed to the ground.

Then he heard her.

"No," she breathed out in complete disbelief. He'd know that voice anywhere. And suddenly he knew. Carol was right. He was still that awkward teenage boy with a crush on his little sister's best friend. And there was no patch for that.

He turned to face her. For once in her life Rachel Green allowed the world to see her cry. See her at her absolute worst. And made no attempt to hide it. Mascara ran down her face. A mixture of fear, disbelief, and pain in her eyes.

She dropped her head into her hands, and just repeated, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," over and over again. And Ross couldn't help but think how absolutely beautiful she was in that moment.

* * *

Monica opened her eyes slowly. The world slowly drifted into realization from a hazy dream. All the while she could see a single pair of shockingly blue eyes enveloped in tears staring back at her. She felt a faint smile fall across her lips.

_He was here. _

As the rest of the world became clearer she noticed her entire family standing around her beside. Her father with his arm draped lovingly around her mother's shoulders. Her mother had the biggest smile on her face that Monica had ever seen. Including birthdays. Ross and Rachel stood together, closer than they normally stood, wearing matching looks of relief.

They all looked so happy to see her. Her. Of all people.

She let her focus fall back on Chandler, who's smile competed with that of her mother's. And in that moment, she realized.

This was her family. And despite everything, she loved them.

And they loved her.

"Hey Mon," Rachel was the first person to speak. But Monica wasn't focusing on her. Her eyes were still locked with his. Blue on blue. And without words, everything they were feeling were expressed in that look.

White light does funny things to a person.

"You gave us quite a little fright there, Harmonica," her father tried to sound calm, but his voice came out edgy and unsure.

"Monica?" Rachel repeated again, pulling Monica out of her trace.

"Hey guys," her hoarse, weak voice surprised even her, "What happened?"

"We'll have plenty of time for details later," her mother cooed, "Right now all we need to do is sit here and talk with each other. Nothing else matters now."

Ross looked down at his watch, "Hey guys, it's midnight!" He exclaimed, "Merry Christmas everyone!"

Rachel looked up at him, "Merry Christmas, Ross," she whispered out, a hint of a smile on her face. Ross smiled giddily back at her.

Out in the hallway, voices could be heard singing Christmas carols softly. Voices could be heard wishing friends and strangers a happy day. Monica turned back to Chandler, whose eyes hadn't left her. She gave a tiny smile as Chandler intertwined his fingers with hers.

And in that moment, she felt absolutely perfect.

**_Hugs and kisses. _**


End file.
